Skip to main content

Full text of "Memorabilia and Anecdotal Reminiscences of Columbia, S. C.: And Incidents Connected Therewith"

See other formats


This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project 

to make the world's books discoverable online. 

It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject 

to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books 

are our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover. 

Marks, notations and other maiginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the 

publisher to a library and finally to you. 

Usage guidelines 

Google is proud to partner with libraries to digitize public domain materials and make them widely accessible. Public domain books belong to the 
public and we are merely their custodians. Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing tliis resource, we liave taken steps to 
prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying. 
We also ask that you: 

+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Google Book Search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for 
personal, non-commercial purposes. 

+ Refrain fivm automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Google's system: If you are conducting research on machine 
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the 
use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help. 

+ Maintain attributionTht GoogXt "watermark" you see on each file is essential for in forming people about this project and helping them find 
additional materials through Google Book Search. Please do not remove it. 

+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just 
because we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other 
countries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of 
any specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner 
anywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liabili^ can be quite severe. 

About Google Book Search 

Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers 
discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web 

at |http: //books .google .com/I 

Sarbarli College Htbtars 



(Class of igio) 



And Anecdotal Reminiscences 
0/ Columbia, S. C, and Inci- 
dents Connected Therewith. 


(U if^zn^.^'/o 

SgTKW o6n> 


APR 241919 


, ^TTT^^UC y*ti'A^ 


How the Idea of Publication Originated. 

Being blessed with a retentive memory, and disposed to inquire 
into matters and things generally; often called upon to give in- 
formation on different subjects to parties in various parts of the 
State — from the establishment of a library chartered by the Gen- 
eral Assembly in 1805; the occupants of the premises northeast 
corner of Richardson (or Main) and Taylor streets in 1820; any 
particulars as to Count von Hassel, whom the party thought might 
be a relative; and the killing of an individual in 1872 — ^these are 
merely samples, taken at random. To the first I could not give a 
definite answer; but suggested, that it was known that a charter 
had been granted for a library, and one would reasonably suppose 
the organizers had carried out their ideas. The second I happened 
to know from reading an advertisement in The Times and Gazette 
of about that date, that the "Indian Queen Tavern" was located 
on that spot, and the name of the proprietor (who proved to be 
the individual about whom the information was wanted). As to the 
third, the party was informed that Count von Hassel took an over- 
dose of laudanum, died and was buried in Trinity Church-yard; 
that his widow soon after gave up a flourishing seminary, located 
in a large building which stood opposite to where her husband was 
laid to rest, went away and died at the North soon after ; that there 
was no property to be disposed of (the Count's estates having been 
confiscated, it was understood) ; and as these events had occurred 
nearly sixty years ago, I couldn't see any reason for further 
inquiry. The last I satisfied the inquirer was a similarity of names 
— ^the one having died in 1858, naturally. 

I have from earliest childhood been fond of listening to conver- 
sations between and anecdotes told by elderly people, and storing 
these statements away on memory's shelves, and it is wonderful 
how fresh they keep — turning them over occasionally and airing 
some that have been quietly reposing for numberless years. Many 
evenings I have spent with my old friend, Mrs. Mary Hillegas — 
reading to her news and advertisements from files of old papers, 
and listening to her interesting comments. Her memory was 
wonderful, and I have been enabled to corroborate some of her 
information in such a satisfactory manner, that I take the balance 


as literally true. We would seat ourselves — ^the old lady taking a 
pinch of snuff, wiping her nose with a red silk handkerchief, hold- 
ing her head aside, and then deftly using a handsome linen one 
conspicuously. The reading would then begin and the replies to 
queries be brought out, besides voluntary information. There are 
several other elderly acquaintances from whom I have obtained 
intelligence at different times, and I have reason to conclude they 
were communicating what they believed was the truth. So that I 
can safely venture considerably beyond my own times. 

Quite a number of individuals, aware of this fad of mine, and 
also the memory, have suggested that I get these reminiscences or 
bits of information together, put them in readable shape, and lay 
them before the world. This I have endeavored to do in this 
volume. Have not pretended to give them chronologically, but just 
as they happened to be brought to mind, without actual connection, 
but in anecdotal salmagundi shape. 

A great many circumstances I am aware of that would be read 
with zest and curiosity by some, but cause pain and an opening up 
of old wounds to others, so I have omitted reference to them. As 
a good priest once said to a dying man, who desired to make a 
statement of painful circumstances of which he was aware: **My 
son, if you can do no good in your fast-ebbing life, do no harm ; I 
prefer not to hear your communication." And he was right. I 
don't mean to intimate that this applies to my case, for I have just 
passed two or three years over the three-score-and-ten mark, and 
hope to see the four-score ; but if the powers above order differently, 
I have an abiding faith in the idea that my shortcomings may be 
counterbalanced by some good points, and that I will be able — as 
with my grammar lessons at school — ^to pass, through the kindness 
of my Master. And with this apology, I put forth what I may term 
this MemorabiItIA. 

That in this conglomeration 
(Plain talk and versification), 
I've hurt no man's reputation. 
True — needs no verification. 
If it meets your approbation 
(S'pose might say, appreciation) — 
Testify glorification 
By subscribing — demonstration. 

C01.UMBIA, S. C, September, 1905. JULIAN A. SELBY. 



Three to Four Years of Age. 

My recollection is unusually good — at least, many people so 
think. On some occasions, after relating circumstances that 
occurred when I was but three and four years of age, I have had 
insinuations made as to my data. One instance in particular in 
proof of my assertions I recall: The good Father Birmingham 
(afterwards Vicar General of the Catholic Church in South Caro- 
lina) was in charge of St. Peter's Church in this town in 1837, and 
for several years before and after that. The old gentleman must 
have been a lover of children and unusually pleasant — children are 
excellent readers of dispositions, and generally govern themselves 
accordingly. I distinctly remember his looks — square black cap on 
head, and black gown, walking slowly around the church-yard, 
missal in hand, and conversing freely with me. The fence enclosing 
the church premises in front was unusually low, and I would almost 
daily clamber over to pay a visit to Rev. Mr. B. I was then three 
years of age; the record says I was born February 6, 1833. To 
corroborate my statement as to age : during the early seventies, the 
Holy Father paid what, I believe, he knew would be his last visit 
to his old parishioners here and elsewhere. I should have stated 
that he would occasionally minister to his religious brethren in 
different sections — Camden, Newberry, Edgefield, etc. — where there 
were no regular houses of worship. I even remember the appear- 
ance of the reverend gentleman on his raw-boned horse — an 
unusually large animal, while the Father was a' rather small-sized 
man — with his old-fashioned saddle-bags, on his labor-of-love jour- 
neys, as I would occasionally see him depart. During the morning 
service on the occasion referred to, the Rev. Mr. B. spoke from the 
altar very pleasantly about my mother and myself, and told of my 
visits and perambulations around the church-yard with him, while 
I was in my third year. That settled the '^Doubting Thomases'' — 
even though at a very late date. Father Birmingham made his 
rounds among his old parishioners, and returned to his home in 


Charleston, where he soon afterwards died, at an extreme old age — 
not, however, before the completion of the pretty little chapel on 
Sullivan's Island, "Star of the Sea," which he was so much inter- 
ested in. I paid several flying visits to him, and shaking his cane 
at me, he would often threaten to knock some of my old Methodist- 
ical ideas out of me. 

To Charleston by Stage and Railroad, 

On the fourth anniversary of my birth — February, 1837 — my 
mother and a party paid a visit to Charleston during the famous 
"Race Week." Some went by steamboat from Granby down the 
Congaree to the Santee, then through the Santee Canal to Cooper 
River, and so to the "City by the Sea." The others took the land 
route — stage coach to Branchville, then by steam cars — passenger 
coaches, short seats running across (something like our summer 
electric cars) and a footboard on the outside for the accpmmodation 
of the conductor. There were some freight cars attached — short, 
light affairs, with wooden frames and cloth sides. The rain poured 
during nearly the entire trip. Hogabook Swamp, a few miles 
below Columbia, was almost impassable, I heard said. On reaching 
our quarters in the city, we were asked whether we came by land 
or water, when "Smart Ike" I promptly replied "Water." "No, 
my son," my mother put in; "we came by land." I responded, in 
an unsatisfied way, "Well, it rained all the time." During our 
peregrinations around the city, I received several presents from 
lady clerks in the stores, among them a "false-face." I merely 
speak of this to show that my memory is all right. In my hurry to 
"scare" the inmates of our boarding house with the mask, I tripped, 
fell and thoroughly demolished the nose, and gave my own some- 
thing of a bat. 

An elderly gentleman in the house took quite a fancy to me, and 
trotted me over the city almost daily — visiting the shipping (and 
the masts of the vessels looked thick as dead trees in a swamp) and 
other objects of interest — invariably winding up our morning 
excursion with a visit to the old "French Coffee House," on the 
north side of the Bay, near Broad street, where I was regaled with 
a wee glass of "Perfect Love" cordial and a slight lunch. In those 
days, I am informed, Madeira and Sherry wines. Hock and Port; 
Maraschino, Noyau, Curacoa and other cordials and liqueurs, were 
considered "the thing." I was particularly attracted by the paper 
on the wall — life-size battle scenes, etc. Although the building was 
used for various purposes in after years, including a newspaper 


office, it happened that I never went in it again until some time 
during the seventies, when I was struck with the familiar appear- 
ance of the wall papering, and a gentleman remarked that this 
paper had been on the walls since the place had been used as the 
"French Coffee House," forty or fifty years before. My old friend 
seemed to be afraid that I would get away from him, and so he 
invariably, before we started out, tied his handkerchief around the 
wrist of each of us, and so we would sally forth. 

The Charleston Hotel was then being constructed, and the scaf- 
folding was still around the immense structure. Speaking of the 
matter a few years ago before a latter-day Charlestonian, he 
remarked that I had made a mistake as to dates — ^that the Charles- 
ton Hotel was not commenced until the forties. My reply was, 
"See Mr. M. H. Berry when you next come to Columbia, and he 
will prove to you by his memoranda that he was sent to Charleston 
by his employers in Newark, New Jersey, with furniture, curtains, 
etc. , for the new hotel in the winter of 1888. * ' He made the inquiry 
but never afterwards referred to the subject. 

Stage Upset — His Stuttering Saved Him, 

Returning from the before-mentioned trip to Charleston, we had 
an upset; but fortunately no one was seriously hurt. There were 
four or five ladies in the stage-coach, and in being lifted from the 
overturned vehicle, they left their low-quartered shoes behind. 
Gaiters were unknown then for young people; elderly ladies wore 
cloth shoes, which were laced up over the ankles, called prunellas — 
but whether the name referred to the shoe or the material is beyond 
my ken. The jar extinguished the oil lamps, and as matches were 
not much in vogue, the ladies had a time of it in selecting their foot 
apparel, when Mr. Lemond (a Scotch gentleman living in Fair- 
field) had gathered up the slippers and dumped them on the ground. 
The shoeless ones felt with their toes, and finally secured their 
property. One little lady declared that she had gotten hold of one 
which would hold both her feet ; when my mother, who was a larger 
specimen of humanity, said she had one which she could not get 
two of her toes into comfortably — ^they exchanged. 

A short time before the upset, one of our passengers, an out-and- 
out Yankee, by his questions, carried a box very carefully on his 
knees, and was thought to be a surveyor, complained that his legs 
were so badly cramped that he would like to get out and walk 
awhile. He was a terrible stutterer. An elderly gentleman, who 


carried a heavy cane, offered to look after the precious box, if he 
would like to try the road. He availed himself at once of the offer. 
The driver directed him to keep to the right, there was no danger of 
getting lost, as the river was in sight all the way. The horses were 
walking slowly and the little man soon got considerably ahead of 
the vehicle. The upset occurred, but the old coach was soon righted, 
the baggage re-packed; and we began jogging along again, when 
somebody commented on our not overtaking the walker. Another 
said that when the little fellow heard of our mishap his first inquiry 
would be about his property. "If he says a word about his box, 
before he inquires about the passengers, or at least the ladies, Til 
thrash him with this stick," holding up his bone-breaker. Just after 
daylight, near the Congaree Bridge, we came up with our stutter- 
ing passenger, who was waiting for us on the side of the road. 
"Hello, driver,'' he said, with a stammer; "what's the matter?" 
"Upset," replied our Jehu, gruffly. "Is my b-b-b — anybody hurt?" 
was the next inquiry. There was a roar from the amused passen- 
gers at the break in his inquiry. "Lucky for you," put in the elderly 
party, "that you stammered; for if you had inquired about your 
box before you did about the passengers — or the ladies at least — 
you would have been forced to go under a surgeon's hands before I 
got through with you." The Yankee's property was uninjured. 
I should have stated that our Scotchman, after things were made 
right, exclaimed earnestly, "We all kem doon in a loomp thegither," 
which was indelibly impressed on my memory. 

Happy Jack and Elizabeth, 

'*Happy" Jack was the sobriquet of our driver, and I saw him 
many times afterwards — a hearty, good-natured soul. His wife 
had a comfortable home near Sandy Run, I think. It was said that 
at one point the road passed within a mile of the house but a turn 
required over two miles to reach it. The good dame would prepare 
coffee, biscuits, meat, etc., bank the fire in the big fireplace and 
retire. When Jack with his vehicle reached the nearest point, he 
would blow "The White Cockade and the Black Cockade," or some 
other simple air, on his horn, give a loud wind-up toot, and yell 
"Elizabeth!" which would have the effect of arousing his passen- 
gers and waking up his faithful helpmate. By the time the stage 
arrived, a hot breakfast would be on the table — much to the grati- 
fication of the weary travelers and the pecuniary advantage of 



Tragedy, Song, Dance and Parce, 

In the good old days, "'fore de wall," as the darkies express it, in 
all dramatic performances, there was a comedy or tragedy, followed 
by a song, dance and farce. The elder Booth (Junius Brutus), 
Dan Marble, Ned Forrest, Wm. H. Crisp and other heavy men (and 
women, too, for that matter) have played engagements here in 
* 'stock** companies. One season, T. G. Booth (the only comedian 
in the family) was the comic singer. His father had an engage- 
ment, and finding that his son was disgracing himself by such 
employment, attempted to break his contract; but found he could 
not do so. He pocketed the affront and went on with the perform- 
ance. "The Used-up Man," the popular song of the day, was 
frequently given, with such emendations and local gags as the 
singer could ring in. The following is a specimen of the original : 

I aint got no steady home, 

Nor nothing else, I s'pose, 
Misfortune follows me 

Wherever about I goes. 
I supposes when I dies, 

From Satan I'll be driven, 
And made to wander round 

Outside the walls of Heaven, 
With none to take me in, 

No critter for to greet me, 
And when I wants a drink, 

Not a soul to treat me. 

The "Exchange" saloon was an extensive establishment and 
well kept — first class, in every way; and was situated on Main, 
below Washington, where David's restaurant now is. Messrs. 
William Beard, Thomas Baker and Charles Neuflfer were the part- 
ners — the latter silent, as he was then a candidate for Sheriff, an 
office that he was elected to and satisfactorily filled. Mr. N. was 
present at the theatre one night, a little "loaded," and was so pleased 
at the rendition of the following verse, that he stepped forward 
and extended this invitation in a loud tone of voice : "You come to 
the 'Exchange,' after the show, tell 'em Charley Neuffer send you, 
and you get all the peach and honey you want. Bring your friends." 
The incident "brought down the house," and ready compliance fol- 
lowed : 

I aint got no good friends, 

Likewise short of money, 
Baker and Beard won't trust 

For their peach and honey. 

The same season, Wise, the famous aeronaut, was to make a 


skyward voyage in a large balloon filled with gas. Mr. Fayette 
Howe, a school-teacher, obtained permission, and made the ascen- 
sion successfully. Booth, that night, added this to "The Used-up 
Man" — ^the recollections of the Harrison campaign had not yet 

died out: 

We aint got no log cabins. 

No hard cider nor no coons. 
But have way of traveling 

In smashing big balloons; 
It would not take up Wise, 

And so to stop a row. 
They sent off a schoolmaster. 

His name was spelt some Howe. 

Of course, hearty applause was the response. The reference to 
a row arose from this circumstance: A so-called balloonist came 
through here, strapped, and succeeded in getting some gullible par- 
ties to advance the necessary funds to construct an aerial apparatus. 
The fellow evidently knew something about the business, employed 
a number of females to work on the job, and at the promised time 
a presentable-looking balloon was brought out of "Carolina Hall.'' 
But a slip-up was made in the varnish to cover and protect the 
apparatus. It was carried to Coleman's Circus lot, where an 
immense crowd had gathered to witness the ascent. The "Profes- 
sor" made a short, descriptive speech, and the inflation began. As 
soon as the balloon was expanded with the gas, queer sounds were 
heard, and rents made in numerous places in the airy vessel. The 
crowd got unruly, broke through the ropes and soon destroyed 
the flimsy affair. The "Professor" escaped through the back way 
with the entrance money and disappeared. Mr. Howe became 
infatuated with ballooning, and took up making airy flights as a 
business. He made several successful ascensions in different places, 
and finally drifted to Columbus, Georgia, where resided Mrs. Beach 
(nee Miss Caroline Neuffer), a young and handsome woman, 
whom he had attempted to address in Columbia some time before, 
but she declined his attentions. This was his last aeronautic effort. 
He ascended, his light support disappeared, and sixty years have 
elapsed, but his return to terra firma has never been recorded. He 
literally went "Up in a balloon, boys, up in a balloon." 

An Actor at the Age of Ninety-Six, 

C. Toler Wolfe, "a general utility man," who, like the late Eugene 
Cramer, was good in tragedy, farce or comedy, played here several 
seasons. He remained on the stage until he was nintey-six years of 
age, and then, although seldom out of an engagement, died poor. 
He "had a skeleton in his closet," which kept him down. 


W. C. Forbes and his wife, with a fine company, played here two 
seasons. They afterwards attempted a performance in a town in 
Florida, but a party of Indians made a raid on them, killed several 
of the actors and carried off the costumes and properties. The 
military authorities sent soldiers to punish them; so when they 
came across a buck with a fancy garment on, they shot him down. 
This raid broke Forbes, and he wound up his career in New York. 
Laura Keene, the well-known English actress, played in Forbes' 
company for a short time ; and it was terrible to hear her hollow 
cough while taking the rollicking part of Lady Gay Spanker in 
"London Assurance." She returned to New York, built a theatre, 
which was named for her, played a celebrated engagement with 
Joe Jefferson and Sothern in the "American Cousin," lost her 
theatre through some trickery, and died. Actors are unfortunate 
proprietors. Lester Wallack made a failure with his theatres, and 
Edwin Booth was equally troubled. 

Joe Jefferson's First Appearance Here. 

Jefferson & Ellsler (Joseph Jefferson and John Ellsler), with 
their wives and an unusually good company of comedians, played 
an engagement here the winter and spring of 1849-50 — first in the 
old theatre and then in American Hall, the site of the building now 
occupied by Sligh & Allen. They depended on their company and 
had no "stars." The town authorities were so delighted with the 
performance that they refunded the license fee of $10 a day for 
the entire season. Joseph Jefferson, Jr., was disappointed when he 
discovered that he was two years older than he thought himself. 

I had a pleasant chat with Mr. Ellsler on his last visit to Colum- 
bia, six years ago, with his daughter, Effie. Notwithstanding his 
years, he took the part of "Adam," in "As You Like It." He 
remembered me perfectly — owing to a pleasant circumstance which 
occurred during their engagement here. As I was about to leave, 
he took one of my hands in both of his, and feelingly said, "When 
you visit New York again, come straight to my house, so that we 
can talk of old times before we cross the river." He crossed. 

I called on Mr. Jefferson in his car two years ago, and was 
pleasantly received. I told him, that night, if never before, he 
would play to three generations — myself and wife, several children 
and grand-children. He proffered me "passes," but- I assured him 
I had secured tickets several days before. In response to a curtain 
call that night, he referred to his having been the manager of a 
theatre here in 1851, and that he was pleased to say that in one case. 


at least, he had played to three generations that night. The old 
partners, Jefferson & Ellsler, were not long separated. Mr. Ellsler 
died about two years ago, and Mr. Jefferson recently. My earnest 
wish is that they may meet in a better land, and if not permitted to 
enact parts as in our world, to pass as satisfactorily before the bar 
of the Great Judge as they did that of public opinion here. 

It was principally through Mr. Jefferson's influence that the 
Church of the Transfiguration, in New York City, was brought 
prominently before the world, and obtained the sobriquet of "The 
Little Church Around the Corner.'' Mr. George Jordan, a well- 
known comedian, died, and as he had been a frequent attendant 
at a church on Fifth avenue about 27th street (called by the "boys" 
"The Church of the Holy Chicken Cock," from the fact that the 
vane on the steeple was a rooster), Mr. Jefferson, with a com- 
mittee of actors, applied to the rector for permission to have the 
funeral services performed there. The reverend gentleman objected 
on account of the profession of the deceased; but suggested that 
there was a little church around the corner where they might be 
accommodated. "God bless the little church around the corner," 
was Mr. Jefferson's fervent reply. Dr. Houghton politely agreed 
to their request, and the services over the dead actor were performed 
there. Edwin Booth and other eminent actors and actresses of 
note have been buried from the beautiful edifice. Mr. Booth has 
a handsome memorial window there. 

An Old Landmark Removed, 

The removal of the theatre, situated on the northwestern corner 
of Assembly and Plain streets, was regretted sincerely by the resi- 
dents of Columbia — it was looked upon as a landmark and one of 
the oldest buildings in the town. It was erected in the early 
twenties, I am informed, by a Dr. Harrison, and was originally 
a three-story building — the upper floor to be used as a ball-room; 
but it was thought to be unsafe, and the upper story was taken down. 

An Unfortunate Manager, 

Mr. De Camp, a prominent actor from England, managed the 
Charleston, Savannah and Columbia Theatres. He is said to have 
been Frenchy in his manners, dressed well, and was very genial. 
He would personally deliver his theatrical programmes, but in such 
a suave manner as to make himself unusually popular. Col. John 
S. Preston became very intimate with the Frenchified English gen- 
tleman, and was a constant attendant at the theatre. De Camp had 
a coach and four, and traveled from city to city in grand style. His 


wife was said to have been a beautiful woman, and her husband 
much attached to her. She was taken suddenly ill and died in two 
or three days. De Camp appeared to be almost heart-broken. The 
bereaved man had the corpse packed in saltpetre and buried 
temporarily, as he thought, in rear of the theatre, to be trans- 
ported to England* when the theatrical season was over. But 
misfortune overtook the manager, and the saltpetred woman still 
reposes in her narrow bed on the lot in rear of the Ursuline Con- 
vent — although efforts have been made to disinter it, but without 
success, as the spot was unmarked. De Camp quietly left these 
parts and nothing was heard of him for several years. Col. Pres- 
ton was returning from New Orleans by boat, and when about 
stepping ashore at Mobile, he recognized De Camp, who was com- 
ing aboard to deliver milk — ^having added the business of milkman 
to that of acting. Col. P. shook hands cordially with his old 
acquaintance, who greeted him heartily and insisted on his driving 
out to his farm with him (his vehicle was in the next street, so he 
informed the Colonel), a few miles from the city, and partaking of 
an excellent breakfast. The invitation was politely declined, but 
the old actor persisted, and before Col. P. could take in the situa- 
tion thoroughly, he was pushed into a milk wagon, with a number 
of vessels containing the lacteal fluid. Resistance was useless, so 
he made the best of it, and for an hour or two was compelled to ride 
around Mobile — De Camp keeping up an incessant chatter, getting 
only monosyllables in reply, until his stock was delivered to his 
numerous customers, when the promised breakfast was partaken of. 
At the time, the work of the former manager was unusually heavy. 
He arose before daylight in the morning and milked his cows; 
delivered his supply in the city ; came back to breakfast ; then to the 
theatre to rehearse ; back to dinner, and again to the theatre in the 
evening. At the age of seventy he died. Poor old De Camp. 

Didn't Approve of Such Tragedy. 

A company of English players — Hart and Carter — next put in an 
appearance, with Charles Young as stage manager and a Mr. Field 
as "the heavy man" — and heavy he was, too. These were the days 
of oil lamps. One night, in playing, Mr. Field slipped and struck 
the floor in a very natural m.anner, but not in approved theatrical 
style; the jar extinguished the footlights. When the disconcerted 
actor got behind the scenes he was soundly reprimanded by the stage 
manager, who inquired in a sneering manner, "What do you call 
that ?" "Tragedy, sir," was the cool reply. "Damn such tragedy !" 


was the indignant answer, and thus the episode ended. Mr. Young 
and his daughter remained in Columbia after the company left, and 
lived in the rear of the theatre, cultivated a garden, and the aged 
actor passed away quietly after a few years. 

Three-Y ear-Old Actor, 

My connection with the theatre — if such it may be called — com- 
menced with the Hart-Carters. When a child was needed in 
"Pizarro," "The Bleeding Nun" and other tragic representations, 
my services were in request. The students of the South Carolina 
College used to promenade Richardson street every afternoon in 
parties of three and four, and being very often on the sidewalk in 
front of the hotel — "The Mansion House'' — where Lorick & Low- 
rance are now quartered, I got quite "chummy" with the young 
men, and was the constant recipient of "fourpences," fruit, candy 
and pinders. As Cora's child, on one occasion, I was presumed to 
be asleep, and was the sole occupant of the stage for a few minutes. 
The collegians recognized me, and began calling, "Wake up, Jule," 
etc., throwing oranges, apples and candy to me (the young men of 
those days carried such things and gave them away freely to chil- 
dren). Notwithstanding my instructicHis to remain perfectly still, 
I could not resist the temptation, but jumped up and began to collect 
the toothsome things with one hand, the other holding my skirt as a 
receptacle. Cora finally rushed out, carried me off, and the* curtain 
was rung down until quiet was restored. 

Murder Will Out, 
A company of four (with their mother) would pay us two visits a 
year, going and returning from the more Southern States — ^the party 
invariably arriving by night in a large Jersey wagon, and leaving 
after dark. It was what might be termed a vaudeville troupe, and 
gave a pleasing performance, as I have heard older heads say. They 
called themselves Chapman — ^William, John, Lucretia and Abigail — 
the two latter beautiful young women, the one light complected, 
the other dark. There was a mystery about them. Finally it became 
known (this was before the days of telegraphing and fast railroad 
trains, therefore news traveled slowly,) that they were from Phila- 
delphia ; that the father had been poisoned, and that a taxidermist, 
a friend of the mother's, had been hanged, being convicted of the 
murder, while the wife, who was believed to have been the most 
guilty of the two, escaped ; and it was said the supposed murderess 
ever after avoided the light of day as much as possible — passing the 
time in sleep when she could. On one occasion, the children arrived 


here in daytime, dressed in deep mourning. But it was their last 
appearance — ^the story of the murder evidently operating against 
them, and they drifted into the great unknown. 

No One-Night Business in Old Times. 

By-the-way, I should state, that while a theatrical troupe would 
generally play through an entire season of three or four months 
(with the aid of an occasional **star''), circuses, menageries and 
other road shows would remain from three days to a week — ^John 
Robinson's shows invariably put in a week. Three generations of 
Robinsons have visited this section in the last sixty-five years — ^Old 
John, Jack, and John, Jr. A minstrel troupe put in a week, and 
were forced to stay a week longer. From here they staged to Cam- 
den, and declared afterwards that they could hardly get away from 
that hospitable town. Old John Robinson, like his fellow-showman, 
Phineas T. Bamum, died seized and possessed of an immense for- 
tune, both starting in life poor. , 

P. T. Bamum Began His ''Show Life*' Here. 

Barnum, it may as well be mentioned in this connection, began 
his career as showman nn Columbia. He was advance agent for 
Napoleon Turner's Circus in ISS?', which company disbanded here, 
and Barnum reorganized it and continued on a route through the 
Southwest. • 

Excellent Driver, Policeman and Captain. 

Mr. Wm. H. Casson drove a wagon for this show, so as to reach 
Columbia at small expense, where he was to take a place as stage- 
driver for McLean & Co. (Daniel, John and Hugh), who were mail 
contractors, and ran coaches to Branch ville, Augusta and other 
points, and were succeeded by Douglas & Ward. Capt. Ward, with 
his pet mare, Black Bess, is well remembered by many of the present 
generation. (The Captain used to declare that he knew the road so 
thoroughly from Columbia to Augusta that he could lay down in 
the bottom of the stage, and locate every stump between the two 
cities. Capt. W. firmly believed that he could repeat Jack Shep- 
pard's ride from London to York on the namesake of Jack's famous 

Capt. Cassort used to tell a number of his experiences during his 
trip with Turner's show, which are corroborated in Barnum's 
printed "Life." The circus reached Columbia the day Col. Pierce 
M. Butler was inaugurated Governor, and to make as great a display 
as possible, the band was secured to serenade his Excellency. Capt. 


Casson was a fiddler — and a good one, too — but not a manipulator 
of brass instruments. The leader of the band wanted his young 
friend to enjoy the frolic, so suggested that he carry an extra instru- 
ment and "keep up with the procession," which he did. Of course, 
the first business was to take the party to a saloon to "wet their 
whistles." The Northern musicians were used to plain whiskey, 
rum, etc., and the multiplicity of the names of the fancy compounds 
confused them— "Hot Apple Toddy," "Peach and Honey," *Tlip," 
"Cherry Bounce," etc. However, they decided to follow the lead of 
the Southerners and take them all in; the result was, that by the 
time the serenade was over they were all full, as other parties beside 
the Governor had been honored. Capt. C. says that was the first 
and only time he was ever intoxicated. 

Capt. Casson was an excellent drill ofiicer, but his rendition of the 
King's English was sometimes after the order of Mrs. Malaprop, in 
Sheridian's **Rivals.*' For instance, he and his command were 
stationed on Morris Island. The steamer "Star of the West" was 
expected to make an attempt to enter Charleston harbor, when Capt. 
C. informed his men that they "Must bivouhauk right there, as they 
expected the enemy every minute annually." On another occasion, 
in Richmond, Va., when his boys had just finished an unusually fine 
bit of drilling, he informed them, in all seriousness, "That they had 
done that admirally." If the Captain's opportunities for an educa- 
tion were short, Tie certainly had thoroughly learned and practiced 
right from wrong, and passed from this world with the just reputa- 
tion of being an earnest, honest man and a good friend to the poor. 
His greatest pleasure seemed to be to seat himself comfortably in 
the evening, with his fiddle, and produce such airs as "Pea Patch," 
"Old Rosin the Beau," "Taflfy was a Welshman," "Big Foot Nig- 
ger," and other airs unknown to this generation, until it was almost 
impossible to keep one's feet still. 

Mr. Casson served some time acceptably on the police force ; but 
his energy nearly cost him his life. Mr. John Altee, at his well- 
known grocery, southeast corner Gervais and Gates streets, was 
suspected of selling liquor to negroes, but had never been detected, 
although a close watch was set over him. Policeman C. disguised 
himself as a darkey, went to Mr. A. and attempted to purchase 
liquor. Whether Mr. A. was provoked at the suspicion of his being 
guilty of the offence, or recognized the white man through his sup- 
posed disguise, I don't know ; but he promptly seized an axe-handle, 
and so severely frailed his would-be customer, that had not assist- 
ance been forthcoming, the days of the energetic policeman would 


have been numbered ; as it was, he was laid up several weeks. All 
sorts of measures were resorted to in order to detect these liquor- 
sellers; one was to furnish a negro with the necessary money to 
purchase a drink, then put a piece of sponge in his mouth, and when 
he came out, taste the simple detective. 

A Valuable Slumber Robe, 

About this time, the students and young men of the town were 
stirred up over the graceful dancing of Miss Clara Fisher, and the 
theatre was nightly crowded during her engagement. She and her 
mother were, of course, guests of Mrs. Hillegas. In cleaning up the 
room and changing the bedding upon the departure of the famous 
danseuse and her parent, a discarded slumber robe belonging to the 
young woman was discovered, and Aunt Dolly picked up several 
dollars from infatuated parties by cutting up the garment and dis- 
posing of it at twenty-five cents for a sample. Martha, a jealous 
chambermaid, who did not share in the proceeds of the treasure, 
declared that linen enough was disposed of to make several slumber 
robes. Perhaps Dolly was like Jack, in Mark Twain's "Innocents 
Abroad," with reference to souvenirs of Mar's Hill, where Paul 
had preached: "As long as there are pebbles in Indiana, Til have 
relics of the hill." 

Another dancer created quite a sensation among young Colum- 
bians — Miss Emeline Gannon. In after years, I inquired about them 
in New York. Miss Fisher got too stout to pirouette around, so she 
turned her attention to the drama ; became an excellent actress, mar- 
ried a Mr. Maeder, and had a son who made quite a reputation as 
a comedian. Miss Gannon took up comedy, and was for a number 
of years leading lady in Lester Wallack's famous company. She 
died suddenly about twenty-five years ago. I remember seeing her 
in Wallack's well known comedy, "Rosedale." 

Christ Betzveen the Two Thieves, 
In the good old days, St. Peter's (Catholic) Church had on the 
right a circus building and on the left the theatre. The irreverent 
used to express it, "Christ between the two thieves." Isaac Coleman 
was the owner of the circus lot and building, and on holidays would 
give a fine display of fireworks of his own make. I remember the 
fight between the Constitution and Guerriere, on one occasion — when 
the Constitution's balls not only cleared the decks of her opponent, 
but also the seats of the lookers-on. Nobody was seriously hurt, but 
the spectators scattered. The building was finally converted into a 
ten-pin alley, and some of our best people would manipulate the 

2— M 


balls. Mr. I. D. Mordecai would occasionally take a hand. He 
would select the largest ball, rush half way down the alley, let the 
ball go, gesticulate violently and not bring down a pin ; if by acci- 
dent one or two were tumbled, he would chuckle over his luck for 
half an hour. The venture was not a success, and the building was 
torn down, the old timbers being used in the erection of several cot- 
tages on its site, and they are in good condition at this time. 

The Grand Finale — Burial of Calhoun. 
The last use made of the theatre was a moving (dionamic-cosmo- 
rama, or an equally expressive term) representation of the funeral 
of Senator John C. Calhoun in Charleston — the arrival of the 
steamer "Governor Dudley," from Wilmington, N. C, escorted by 
the "Metamora" and other steam craft in port; the procession and 
finally the interment of the body, in the plot in the rear of the Cir- 
cular Church, on Church street. Notwithstanding the solemnity of 
the subject, laughter was caused by the machinery not working 
properly — the soldiers would take a rapid step or two and stop, then 
another start, with similar irregular movements by the horsemen 
and vehicles. Joe Randall, the colored trumpeter, at the head of the 
dragoons, was recognized by the small boys and cheered. Randall, 
though a resident of Columbia, was deemed essential to the parades 
of the mounted men of Charleston, as he was an excellent trumpeter. 

Bring Out Your Blamed Lion. 
Some old-timers well remember Mr. Aleck Brodie and his wife, 
who used to ride around in a sulkey, the fashion of a hundred years 
ago. They lived at the northeast corner of Main and Richland 
streets. The old gentleman's face looked like the moon at the full, 
and he was generally in that condition. They had no children, but 
were very attentive to those of other folks. Mr. B. was a Scotch- 
man of pugnacious breed, for with him it was a word and a blow. 
One afternoon while walking around in a menagerie with his favor- 
ite bull-terrier, "Tige,'* the animal attempted to reach a lion in his 
cage when a keeper gave him a kick, which so enraged Mr. B. that 
he promptly knocked the man down, stepped back, with his arms on 
guard, and called out, "Bring out your blamed old lion ; 'Tige' can 
lick him and I can lick you." The bystanders interfered, quiet was 
restored, and Mr. B. and his dog walked proudly out of the tent. 
The old gentleman kept a number of goats, and many a delightful 
afternoon I have passed riding the animals, under the careful guard- 
ianship of the man-of-all-work, Adam. The old couple passed from 
the stage of life but a few weeks apart. 



A Successful and Skillful Physician. 

Dr. Robert W. Gibbes, Sr., was a scientist in every sense of the 
word, a very skillful physician and surgeon, an able writer on varied 
subjects, and a genial, charitable gentleman ; besides being a valued 
member of many foreign as well as American literary associations. 

When Dr. H. H. Toland decided to take up his abode in Cali- 
fornia, Dr. G. succeeded to his professional business and removed 
to Dr. T.'s home, northeast corner Sumter and Plain streets. His 
old homestead was on the northwest corner of Marion and Ladv 
streets. Our venerated friend took up Dr. Toland's practice among 
the Hampton negroes; and Gen. H., commenting on his practice, 
under the new regime, declared that Gibbes saved him fully $5,000 
a year in slaves. "Toland lanceted them to death, while Gibbes 
lifened them with quinine." Among the other legacies obtained by 
Dr. G. in the Toland transfer was The Palmetto State Banner, which 
was being extravagantly run by Mr. I. C. Morgan. Instead of 
receiving interest on the mortgage, he was constantly being called 
upon to put out money for expenses, and was finally compelled to 
foreclose. By proper management and his extraordinary business 
tact. Dr. Gibbes made a success of the paper, both daily and weekly, 
and swallowed The South Carolinian, in 1852, when my business 
relations began with him. I can back up Gen. Hampton's statement 
as to the lancing — I have several reminders on my left arm. Dr. 
Gibbes, with his other duties, edited the paper, assisted by his eldest 
son, James G., Esq., succeeded by poor Frank Gaillard, a pleasing, 
forcible writer, who lost his life on the battle-fields of Virginia. It 
was during this time that trouble occurred between Capt. James D. 
Tradewell and Editor Frank Gaillard, and a challenge passed. Mr. 
G. would write up his editorials several days ahead (for he wielded 
his pen with the greatest facility) occasionally, and go off on a court- 
ing trip to Winnsboro — ^maybe it was to see his children by a 
deceased wife. I looked after the news matter and the general 
management of the office. During one of these trips, an imperative 
note was received at the office from Capt. T. I telegraphed Mr. G. 
and he promptly returned to Columbia. The officials got hold of 
the matter and attempted to arrest the parties. Capt. T. "hid out," 
and Mr. G., with his bosom friends, Dr. Junius Nott and Beverly 
Means, secured quarters in an out-of-the-way part of the Congaree 
House (site of the Jerome). Although not responsible in any way 


about the matter, I was terribly worried during the two or three 
intervening days. A Board of Honor took the affair in hand and it 
was amicably adjusted. 

Dr. Gibbes was fond of puns and double entendres, but insisted 
that italics should never be used. "If a point is so weak that the 
reader cannot see, it must be poor," he would say. On one occasion, 
the famous singer, Parodi, gave a concert here, which very much 
pleased the editor-doctor, and in commenting on it, he said the boys 
on their way home Parodied the singing. Forgetting directions, I 
put it Parodi-ed — making him repeat his wishes more explicitly. 
It never again occurred. His printing office, on Washington street, 
near Richardson, was totally destroyed by fire, soon after midnight. 
The next morning, his son, James, was oflf to Charleston, to have 
necessary legislative printing done, while the Doctor was looking 
after other important matters and arrangements for rebuilding. 

It Might Make a Difference, 

I -during the past year, two former would-be combatants — Col. 
Wnu Wallace and Maj. Jas. G. Gibbes — have passed away. Maj. 
CiiblxfS was acting as editor of his father's paper — The South Caro- 
linian — during the absence of the old gentleman at the North. The 
trouble grew out of a discussion as to the Lunatic Asylum. Dr. D. 
H. Trczevant, Sr., and other go-ahead parties wanted either to mod- 
ernize the old building or erect new ones, which were greatly needed, 
as two additions had been made to the eastern and western ends of 
the antiquated home for the insane. A beginning had been made 
at the time referred to, as expressed in the Christmas address of the 
carrier of the paper: 

Nor must the Asylum be forgot, 

They have obtained the Taylor lot, 

On which the Regents will, they say, 

Build something grand for those who pay; 

That other nuisance overgrown 

Must still send forth its pauper moan, etc. 

Andrew Wallace, Esq., was one of the Regents, and in the sharp 
discussion of the subject, it was thought that a reflection had been 
made on the integrity of those officials through the columns of the 
Carolinian, Col. Wallace, in defence of his father's character, chal- 
lenged Maj. Gibbes to fight a duel; it was accepted, parties selected, 
and Fair Bluflf, N. C, chosen as the duelling ground. At the 
appointed time. Col. W. and his friends quietly departed by the 
public road, and reached the objective point. Maj. G. and his sec- 
ond, Capt. Jas. U. Adams, went by railroad train. Sheriff Jesse 
E. Dent got wind of the matter, slipped into the wash-room of the 


passenger car and remained out of sight until Kingville was 
reached. As the suspected parties were about to board the Wil- 
mington and Manchester cars, which would soon carry them beyond 
Sheriff D.'s jurisdiction, he arrested Maj. G. and Capt. A. on a 
charge of attempting to violate the laws of the State. Capt. A. was 
disposed to resist the arrest, on the ground that their opponents 
having avoided the authorities, would meet the appointment, and 
it might be a reflection on his principal. But Mr. Flowers, a matter- 
of-fact employee of the railroad, said to this gentleman: "Capt. 
Jim, you know I think a heap of you, and would do all I could for 
you; but you are kicking against the State of South Carolina. 
Sheriff Dent can call on any man to help him carry out the law, and 
put you in jail. You better stop right there." Capt. A. reluctantly 
yielded to the inevitable, and the train for North Carolina moved 
off. Maj. G. was an excellent shot, and during their enforced wait- 
ing for the up Charleston train, he exhibited his skill with his pistol 
— cutting twigs, penetrating small coins, etc. Mr. Flowers' com- 
ment was characteristic of the man: "Maj. Jeems, if Capt. Wallace 
was in front of you with one of them big-mouthed pistols, do you 
think you could shoot as straight as that?" "Perhaps not — I don't 
know," was the reply. The unpleasant affair was amicably adjusted 
by mutual friends. The Northern papers commented on the aptness 
of the name of the proposed fighting ground, "Fair Bluff." But 
those who knew the parties were satisfied as to their pluck. The 
one was said to be as cool as a cucumber and feared nothing, while 
the other, it was charged, would "tackle a buzz-saw." A year or 
two ago I met the two to-be duellists in the State House, where they 
were engaged in business for the State, and were chatting pleasantly 
together; the old trouble had been forgotten, and rightfully. 

Caught Up With a Flighty Husband. 

Adjacent to the First Presbyterian Church-yard, known as the 
Stanley lot, surrounded by a number of relatives — husband, parents, 
child, grand-child, nephews, nieces, and a half-brother — will be 
found the grave of Mrs. Mary Hillegas, who in her youthful days 
was considered the belle of Columbia, and who exhibited evidences 
of her beauty up to the time of her death, December, 1858. The 
slab gives her birth-place simply in Virginia, and her age as about 
ninety ; but as she was the widow of two Revolutionary officers (Dr. 
Hendrick and Mr. Howell), I think the date a little short. The 
old lady had been married four times — the two parties above men- 
tioned and Chestine Williamson and William Hillegas. The belief 


is that she would have taken a fifth helpmate, but being thrown 
from her carriage, and meeting with the compound accident of a 
broken nose and dislocated collar-bone, she thought her beauty 
spoilt, and withdrew from the matrimonial market. Of her first 
two husbands I have heard nothing unfavorable ; the third — "Teny" 
Williamson, as he was commonly called — spent nearly all of the 
rich wife's money that he could get hold of. The square on which 
the First Presbyterian Church stands, and considerable adjacent 
property, formerly belonged to her; she retained only the burial 

In a scrap-book prepared in childhood days — which, fortunately, 
was not all pasted over — ^are a number of charges against Chestine 
Williamson for spirits and rubbers at cards, which showed conclu- 
sively how the money went. The scrap-book was a ledger used by 
the proprietor of Green's Tavern, formerly Rives' — the first erected 
in Columbia. There are also charges against William Preston, of 
Virginia; W. Scott, of Virginia, and other parties who have since 
gained prominence. The pasting ends about where the charges in 
pounds, shillings and pence were being entered in dollars and cents. 

Mrs. Williamson was so reduced by her husband's extravagance 
that she was compelled to open a boarding house, on the southeast 
corner of Taylor and Main streets. The Judges boarded with her, 
and so continued up to the time of her retirement. Mr. Williamson 
was a "gay boy." On one occasion there was to be a "tony" ball 
at the State House, which the couple were to attend. The gay 
Lothario thought he could fly around the girls to better advantage 
when alone than if accompanied by his handsome wife. So while 
the latter was seeing after the removal of the supper things, Mr. 
Williamson remarked that he had a slight headache, and if she did 
not particularly care, proposed they remain at home. The dutiful 
wife promptly acceded to his proposition, and at once gave up all 
idea of joining the gay throng. The delighted husband then care- 
lessly remarked that while she was clearing up he would walk 
around the square and smoke a cigar. An hour passed and he did 
not return. In the meantime, David J. McCord, Esq., then a promi- 
nent young lawyer, called to pay his respects to the distinguished 
legal gentlemen then quartered in the house. Much surprised, he 
inquired of Mrs. Williamson as to her absence from the ball. The 
reply was, "Mr. Williamson complained of a headache, and we 
decided to stay at home." "Headache !" was the surprised exclama- 
tion. "Well, he's dancing around with the girls in a lively way. 


Suppose you put on your ball attire, and I will accompany you to the 
Capitol." **A11 right," was the response of the slighted wife, and 
while Mrs. W. was bedecking herself in her best rig, Mr. McCord 
paid his call. They then proceeded to the State House, and about 
the first individual to appear before them on their arrival was the 
guilty husband, waltzing with a handsome "grass widow." His 
excuses availed nothing — the angry wife would have none of him. 
She danced with different gentlemen, went to supper with Mr. McC, 
who accompanied her home at the proper time, the snubbed husband 
following soon after. 

Mrs. Williamson was the half-sister of Capt. William B. Stanley, 
and this relationship afterwards existed between them: he mar- 
ried her grand-daughter. Miss Harriet Zimmerman. It is a little 
singular that three important events in the gallant Captain's life 
occurred on three adjacent blocks on Bull street: his short married 
life, the birth and death of his only child and that of his wife, occur- 
red in the house on the southwest corner of Bull and Plain streets 
(still standing — ^the only dwelling which escaped Sherman's burn- 
ing on that square) ; the next below, which contains his burial spot, 
and the one immediately south of it, where he ended his days — north- 
west corner of Gervais and Bull streets. 

The fourth husband of our old friend was Mr. William Hillegas, 
a happy-go-lucky soul, who occupied his time principally in picking 
up bargains at auction. The garret of their residence was filled 
with these accumulations — many of them literally useless. On one 
occasion, during the temporary absence of the lazy husband, Mrs. 
H. packed the stuff off to an auction house, where after a time they 
were disposed of in a lump, Mr. H. being the lucky purchaser. The 
delighted bargain-seeker told of his fortunate investment, and much 
to the disgust of the wife, the garret was soon again filled with the 
useless accumulations. 

Miss Jane and Her Novel Parasol. 

Miss Jane Bryce was one of the salt of the earth, and passed her 
time principally in giving poor children an educational start. She 
would look up waifs from every section of the town, see that they 
were properly dressed, and look after them in her school during the 
week as well as Sunday. Miss Jane, and her brother, Robert, were 
much attached to one another, and both noted for their eccentricities 
and apparent inattention to surroundings. They would frequently 
go to and from church together. One morning the brother and 
sister became interested in some subject they were discussing, and 


as they were leaving the house, she picked up what she evidently 
thought was a parasol, but it proved to be a fly-brush. Holding it 
carefully overhead, they walked all the way to church without either 
noticing the substituted article. On arriving at their place of wor- 
ship, the Methodist Church, an intimate friend inquired whether 
flies had become numerous in the sacred edifice. In her rapid way 
she began to explain the circumstance, but put it on the plea of 
interest in the subject they were discussing. 

Wouldn't Disturb the Cozv. 

Cows were formerly allowed to roam at will in the streets, and 
they would sometimes recline on the sidewalks. Miss Jane was 
homeward bound, saw a cow in the way, and with the idea that she 
would not disturb the bovine, attempted to step over. The swish 
of the stiffened garments startled Madam Cow, and she hurriedly got 
up, giving Miss Jane a ride of a few steps, when the lady fell off, 
but, fortunately, not hurting herself. Miss Jane finally removed 
to Spartanburg with her brother's family, and died there at a ripe 
old age, regretted by her new as well as many old friends. 

Had a ''Scrap" with a Countryman. 

Messrs. P. & R. Bryce, whose well known business house was at 
the southwest corner of Richardson and Blanding streets, stood high 
in this community and surrounding country — what they said about 
their goods (they kept a general stock) could be strictly depended 
upon. One day, a slight misunderstanding occurred between Mr. 
Peter Bryce and a country customer, and they came to blows. Mr. 
Robert Bryce, surprised at the extraordinary affair, rushed forward 
to separate the combatants, when the countryman, seeing the ap- 
proach of reinforcements, whipped out his knife and prepared to 
do battle valiantly. Mr. R. B. had a peculiar lisp or defect in his 
voice, and when he spoke rapidly, which he sometimes attempted, 
made himself almost unintelligible. On this occasion, seeing the 
knife, he called out excitedly, "Let him go. Bud Peter ; let him go ! 
He's got out his knife and is cutting and slashing at a fellow like 
a hero!" No blood was spilt, and the clerks soon separated the 

Dozvned the Post Commandant. 

Mr. William G. Simms, the poet and historical story-writer, was 
the most genial gentleman I have ever known (unless I except Gov. 
Zeb Vance, of North Carolina). He edited The Phoenix for me, 
and was disposed to call a spade by its proper name. I would some- 


times suggest a little toning down of his articles, which would 
generally be done. During my absence on one occasion, Mr. S. 
ventilated Gen. Hart well (formerly Colonel of a colored regiment), 
who commanded this department, and warmed him up pretty tho- 
roughly. A corporal and squad of soldiers waited on Mr. Simms 
that day, with a summons to appear at once before the offended 
General, at his headquarters, northwest corner Bull and Gervais 
streets. Of course, the order was obeyed. Entering the room 
where military law was being dispensed, Mr. Simms embraced the 
opportunity of a temporary lull in the proceedings, to request to be 
allowed to seat himself, as he was well advanced in years; and he 
was permitted so to do — an orderly quietly handing him a chair. His 
turn soon came, Mr. G. was placed directly in front of the General, 
and the trial began. In a very short time the charge was dismissed, 
and Mr. S. was invited to partake of an elegant luncheon in an 
adjoining room, which he politely accepted. When Mr. Simms re- 
turned to his quarters, it was in Gen. Hartwell's carriage, with a 
large basket filled with champagne and canned delicacies. The 
General expressed himself to Col. Haughton (of the Ohio Veteran 
Volunteers) the next day, to the effect that if Mr. S. was a specimen 
of the South Carolina gentleman, he would never enter into a tilt 
with one of them again. "He out-talked me, out-drank me, and very 
clearly and politely showed me that I lacked proper respect for the 
aged." "I told you so," was Haughton's reply. Gen. Ames, Col. 
Haughton, Captains Lockwood, Carlton and other officers were great 
admirers of Mr. Simms, and two or three would drop in every day — 
ostensibly to read the papers, but really to chat with that delightful 

You Mean My Hair, Sir, 

Mrs. Margaret Maxwell Martin, wife of the Rev. William Martin, 
of the Methodist Episcopal Church, was a talented, genial and highly 
appreciated lady. Descendants of the aged couple, who passed away 
many years ago, still live in the old homestead, southeast corner 
of Blanding and Henderson streets. Mrs. M. had very bright eyes 
and beautiful auburn hair, and they were maintained, I believe, to 
the end of her long and useful life. In her youthful days, while pay- 
ing a visit to Charleston, and as she was stepping into a carriage 
on King street, a would-be smartey approached her, raised his hat, 
and said, "Will you oblige me by allowing me to ignite my cigar 
by the light of your eyes ?" "You mean my hair, sir, I suppose ?" she 
responded sharply, entered the vehicle and was driven off. Mrs. 


M. was the composer of several very touching and pretty pieces of 
poetry. "To a Highland Laddie," I distinctly remember — on receipt 
of a picture of a Highlander in native costume. 

Her eldest son, William, volunteered in the Columbia Artillery, 
and it is claimed that his was the first life sacrificed in the service 
of his native State — died from a cold contracted on Morris Island. 
He inherited his mother's hair, eyes and her poetic inspiration. A 
volume of his poems has been published — the themes being usually 
of a lively and amusing character — as the "Under Dog in the Fight." 

''Uncle Billy'' and the Carrots. 

"Uncle" Billy Maybin, as he was familiarly called, was the pro- 
prietor of the Congaree House (site of the present Jerome) for a 
number of years. *The old gentleman would sometimes get a little 
too much in the spiritual line, and by attempting to hide it, would 
make it the more apparent. His wife, good soul, would make no 
reference to his condition, but rather attempt to veil it. He was a 
great lover of carrots, and on one occasion they did not suit his; so he called to Mrs. M., seated at the other end of the long 
table, "My dear, when carrots are properly cooked, should they be 
as hard as a rock?" "No, Mr. Maybin," was the quiet reply; "they 
should be as soft as mush." "Then," replied Uncle Billy, with a 
near approach to an oath, "the next time I buy carrots, Fll buy a 
carrot cook." 

President Polk and the Boots, 

The portly gentleman decided to apply for the position of Post- 
master of Columbia, made vacant by the death of the venerable Mr. 
Benjamin Rawls, and very foolishly sent a pair of boots to Presi- 
dent Polk as a present; evidently possessed with the idea that the 
high-minded Tennesseean could be influenced through the medium 
of a pair of one-hundred-dollar foot-covers — for that was the 
amount paid to Dougal & Young for them. They were beauties. 
The present was promptly returned, without any written accompani- 
ment, and Major Adney H. Gladden, of then Mexican war reputa- 
tion — obtained at Cerro Gordo, Contreras, Cherubusco, Chapultepec, 
Garita de Belen and other battles (where the gallant little Major 
commanded after the death of Col. P. M. Butler and Lieut. Col. J. 
P. Dickinson). It was the storming of the castle of Chapultepec 
that won glory for the South Carolina and New York regiments 
To travel back to the boots : They met the ignoble fate of being dis- 
posed of by raffle ; and, strange to say, Shields Hussey, a dandyish 
young clerk, on the last throw of the dice by eighteen — beating 


seventeen. Col. (then Gen.) Gladden lost his life at Shiloh, where 
he remained in command of his forces with a broken arm, until 
another bullet deprived him of life. There are many old residents 
who remember him, as he used to ride around on his pony with a 
huge Mexican saddle, spurs and equipments. 

The Alligator Spoke, so Dan Declared. 

About this time a monster alligator was wounded and captured 
in what was then known as Joyner's Pond, on the Lexington side of 
the Congaree River. The saurian was brought to Columbia and 
lodged in the lot in rear of Kinsler & McGregor's store, northwest 
corner of Main and Taylor streets. The size of the beast was noised 
abroad, and several showmen put in an appearance to purchase the 
monster, if possible. As the wounds had an ugly appearance, the 
would-be-purchasers put off making bids until the result of the inju- 
ries could be seen. The gator retained his appetite, and it was a 
novelty to see one of his keepers raise his upper jaw with an axe- 
handle while another would throw a pig or a puppy into the open- 
ing, and the jaws would come together with a snap — ^the half-open 
eyes seemed to express gratification. Many useless curs were thus 
■disposed of, as the small boy was allowed to see the show by bring- 
ing a puppy. Not a sound was heard after the jaws came together. 
It died within a fortnight of its capture. 

Dan. Tradewell, a would-be Beau Brummel, who enjoyed a joke 
heartily, tried the dangerous experiment of "rigging" Uncle Billy. 
Hurrying down to the hotel, he found his victim sauntering up and 
down the piazza, with his hands under his coat-tails. Dan. excitedly 
called out : "Uncle Billv, have you heard the news ?" "What news ?'* 
was the instant response; "have I got the appointment?" "Naw," 
replied the joker ; "but the alligator's dead." "What do I care about 
the alligator?" snarled Uncle Billy. "Well, a wonderful thing oc- 
curred just as it was about to draw its last breath — it spoke." 
"Stuff!" said Uncle Billy. Dan. persisted in his remarks excitedly 
until his listener was forced to make some comment or inquiry as 
to the singular event. "Well, what did the d — d brute say?" Dan. 
stepped lightly down the steps, and with a merry twinkle in his eyes, 
replied : "Just as he drew his last breath, he said distinctly 'Boots !' " 
Before the irascible gentleman could get over the intervening space, 
Dan. was half a block away — evidently having business elsewhere. 

Dan. had trouble with a man named Marshall, and received a 
slight bullet wound in the hip. The hole showed conspicuously in 


the ash-colored pants, and he was evidently proud of it, for he wore 
those pants until his death. 

John "Dictionary" Brown. 

In the old days, we had a well known character — he manufactured 
words to suit himself, and was generally known as "John Dictionary 
Brown," and his better-half was similarly afflicted. Mr. B. acted 
as deputy sheriff for a time, and was entrusted with a warrant for 
the arrest of an escaped prisoner. Mr. B. followed his man to a 
swamp which was formerly located a few miles below Columbia, 
and there lost him. His return on the warrant was, Non comati- 
bus in swampo" — which the lawyers pronounced good dog Latin. 

The Resurrection, etc. 

"Dictionary" and his good wife had relatives living in Lancaster, 
and they determined to pay a visit to that remote section. Seated 
in a sulkey, with a favorite servant, Sam, on the floor, his feet swing- 
ing, they started on their journey. There were indications of an 
insurrection among the slaves soon after their arrival — -the threat- 
ened trouble, by the way, was fifteen miles off. The visit was cut 
short, and the visitors returned home, full of excitement. On their 
arrival, Mrs. Brown, in grandiloquent style, gave out the intelli- 
gence : "Pappy and me was in fifteen miles of the resurrection ; and 
if Sam had knowed anything about it, he'd a been in the midst of the 
conflabberation !" 

Mr. B. had set out a lot of cabbage plants, of which he was very 
proud. A heavy frost nipped them. On going through his garden 
the next morning, he was completely upset. Returning into the 
house, he saluted his wife with the astounding assertion, "Sallie, 
take it up one side and down the other, it appears to me as if the 
Lord does 'bout as much harm as he does good — every derned one 
of my cabbage plants is dead !" 

It appears that in those good old days, if a member violated a 
church rule unintentionally, his name would be penciled through, 
and he would be suspended for six months. In Brother Brown's 
case, this rule was carried out to this extent — his name was erased, 
but nothing was said to him about it, being regarded merely as a 
matter of form. The church book was carelessly left on the desk, 
so that any one could read the entries. One Sunday morning, before 
service (frequently merely the reading a chapter in the Bible and 
a hymn being sung, as there was no regular preacher), Mr. B. 
strolled up and turned over the leaves. Presently his eyes flashed. 


and he called out in an excited tone to his wife, "Sallie, Til be derned 
if they aint struck my name off the books — let's go home!" And 
off they went, and never returned. 

Hyatt's Park — A Retrospect. 

Mr. Joseph Newman, a genial gentleman and wonderful inventor, 
passed many years of his life, with his family, on the premises now 
known as Hyatt's Park. He occupied himself with piano tuning 
and repairing — had formerly manufactured these instruments in 
Baltimore. He was a hospitable man, and had a hearty welcome for 
one and all. Nothing pleased him more than to have a "surprise 
party" pay him a visit, and he had a good many, as the "surprisers" 
knew they were always welcome. Family prayers were held nightly, 
and Mr. N. would sometimes get so warmed up in his appeal to 
the Supreme Being that he extended his remarks to an unlimited 
length, so that when he got through, and was about to give out a 
hymn, there would be no one present to sing ; but, nothing daunted, 
he started it up, and immediately the deserters sheepishly came 
sidling in. Mr. N. frequently declared that in the course of time a 
park, with a fish-pond, etc., might adorn these grounds, and he hoped 
that he would have the means to do it; but he departed this life 
before his ideas could be carried out. A member of his family re- 
tains a sketch or plat he prepared of his contemplated park and im- 
provements. It is hoped that in the mystical land he will keep 
informed of the success of his prognostications. These ideas were 
suggested by an occurrence at the park aforesaid recently: 

At Hyatt's Park the other night 

(Electrics all extingiiish'd), 
Persons two feet off, V)y dim light, 

Could scarce be distinguished; 
When before my surprised gaze 

Came a form that seem'd human — 
I recognized through the haze 

My old friend, Joseph Newman — 
Who left this world long years ago, 

Regretted by old and young; 
Better soul ne'er lived, I trow — 

One freer from intended wrong. 
The features, as in days of yore, 

Wore a pleased expression — 
Ideas he talk'd of years before. 

When he was in possession 
Of the lovely elevation 

Where the Auditorium stands, 
And Eau Claire new trolley station, 

Besides the adjacent lands, 
Which have been put in condition — 

Made a large and handsome park, 
And a wonderful addition 

(By day as well's after dark) 


To attractions for towns near by, 

Now brought in close connection 
By good dirt roads and 'Hine trolley" — 

'Bout this there's no deception. 
To see that what he'd prophecied 

Away back in the sixties. 
Was being fully verified — 

One of the occult myst'ries. 
And Smith's Branch road, which brought us here 

Thro^ sand beds and o'er rou^ hills, 
Can now be travers'd without fear 

Of break-downs and other ills. 
Thanks to wide-'wake Manager Clark 

Of the Electric Railway 
(At figures, too, not a la shark), 

We've vaud'villes at close of day. 
And on each Sunday afternoon. 

During the swelt'ring weather, 
With instruments in perfect tune, 

Musicimis come together; 
Sweet singers, too, of sexes both. 

Delight the crowds attending — 
Some listen, others pledge their troth. 

The music sweetly blending. 
At dewy eve they separate. 

Each to his home returning; 
Doors are closed, not the great gate. 

And the 'lectrics are burning. 

She Was Satisfied. 

Miss Mary Hennessee, who resided with her parents on the north- 
east corner of Plain and Assembly streets, a "poetess," as she was 
pleased occasionally to designate herself, used to annoy Editor Adam 
Summer, of The South Carolinian, with her lucubrations. He gave 
the following brief introduction to a "poem:" "Tasso, Burns and 
Tustenuggeepokehoko, the big Indian, have each wailed forth their 
lamentations. The first to the clear sunny skies of fair Italia : the 
second in commendation of his bonnie Scotland; the third to the 
alligators and pelicans of the everglades of Florida; but it has re- 
mained for Columbia to produce the original and only 'Young Gen- 
tleman's Lament :' " 

Fair lady, at thy stern request, 

I now from thee depart; 
But oh, within my anxious breast 

There beats an aching heart. 
The syren god dealt treach'rously, 

Alas, alas, for me; 
For, oh, he gave my dearest part 

To beauty's fairest, sweetest maid. 
Who now holds fast my heart. 

And so on for forty or fifty lines. The young lady was nervous 
about the reference to the Indian, and came over to give me a blast 
about my employer. I listened to her angry words with evident 


surprise, and when she stopped to get fresh breath, I put in, to the 
effect that it was strange that she had never heard of the famous 
Tustenuggeepokehoko, the only known poet of the Seminoles, who 
had been presented with a blanket and a jug of whiskey for one of 
his recent productions — ^the most valued articles an Indian could 
receive. This mollified the lady somewhat, and then the mother 
clinched the matter by adding : "Mary, I told you that Julian could 
explain it all right to you. Col. Summer thinks too much of your 
poetry to fling at you.*' Miss Mary was satisfied. She was setting 
her cap for Dr. H. H. Toland, but the doctor was putting his best 
foot foremost to secure the wealthy Widow Brevard, one of the 
largest land-holders in Richland District, besides owning a number 
of negroes. Somebody joked our poetess about the matter, when 
she broke forth with the following : 

They tell me he love me, but how can it be, 
After courting the widow, to think of me; 
To think of me who am but four feet high, 
While he is full six feet three. 

The doctor pulled up and went to California ; but whether it should 
be attributed to making no impression on the heart of the widow, 
or Miss Mary's persistent calls upon him professionally for imagi- 
nary ills, is a query I cannot answer. 

The Caldwell Brothers — Hungry. 

John Caldwell, Esq., at one time President of the South Carolina 
Railroad and an extensive cotton buyer, was a very matter-of-fact 
sort of an individual. On his way home from New York, on one 
occasion, he took the steamboat at Baltimore for Norfolk. When 
the gong sounded for supper, he overhauled his pockets for the 
necessary coin, but it was missing. "Julian,'* he remarked, in re- 
lating the circumstance, "I was hungry." He could have made him- 
self known to the officials, but that did not suit his notions of busi- 
ness propriety. About that time a gentleman stepped up to him, 
and said, "Mr. John Caldwell, of Columbia, S. C, I believe?" "Yes, 
sir; what can I do for you?" replied Mr. C. "I have a package of 
money for your brother-in-law, Mr. Jonathan Blakeley, and would 
be glad if you would deliver it to him. I intended to express it at 
Norfolk," said the stranger. "Certainly," was Mr. C.*s response, re- 
ceiving the money, examining the contents and giving the necessary 
receipt. To use his own expression, "I got to my state-room in a 
hurry, .^oon had the necessary money and went to supper." 


Never Saw my Brother Ja<:k. 

Mr. John Caldwell was not noted for beauty, but his integrity and 
honesty of purpose could not be doubted. His brother, Robert, was 
walking slowly along Main street, one day, when two young women 
overtook him. As they passed, one of them, in a pert voice, intended 
to be overheard by the gentleman, said, "Mary, there goes the homeli- 
est man in town." "Young ladies," quietly answered Mr. Robert, 
"you never saw my brother Jack." They were squelched — and 
looked it. 

Knew How to Utilize His Steps. 

Mr. Smith Hoyt, a "down East" carpenter, who lived at the north- 
west corner of Richardson and Medium streets (now College), used 
his appendages to make correct and simple measurements. Being 
called upon to bid for the erection of a building, and arrange as to 
the dimensions, he would step here and there, apparently exercising 
himself, and by the time his would-be employer had finished his 
directions, Hoyt would be ready with the proposition — having 
stepped off and found the necessary space to be covered. 

Why Not Say Christianized? 

Mrs. Stratton and Mrs. Pollock were great friends and fond of 
shopping. On one occasion, Mrs. S. priced an article in Nichols' 
crockery store, and it being higher than she anticipated, she, without 
intending any offense to her female companion, replied, "I'll have 
to Jew you, Mr. Nichols." "Wouldn't Christianize have been 
equally as appropriate?" inquired Mrs. P. All parties smiled in a 
quaint way. 

Mrs. M. W. Stratton, of the "Washington House," northeast cor- 
ner of Gervais and Assembly streets, wrote poetry and prose, 
which was universally read and admired. Her "Shadows on the 
Fence" was such a poetical and yet literal delineation of parties, that 
they were recognized without further explanation, and furnished 
a deal of amusement. "Keep Me Awake, Mother," rated as equal 
to its companion piece, "Rock Me to Sleep, Mother," was set to 
music by Mr. Joseph Hart Denck, and had a large sale. A volume 
of Mrs. Stratton's literary work was about to be published, but 
the breaking out of the war caused the matter to drop. She was 
a graduate of the famous Barhamville Institute, and although reach- 
ing close to the three-score-and-ten era, she was active, and had 
never used spectacles, although addicted to reading and writing 
until a late hour nightly. She died about twenty years ago, leaving 
a large family. 


Mrs. Rebecca Pollock was an English lady of refinement, who 
with her husband, Elias Pollock, came to. Columbia and located 
about 1825. They reared a family of ten children, all of whom 
reached the years of maturity and brought up families, but have, with 
one exception, since departed this life, and their children have nearly 
all gone elsewhere — an apt illustration of "the dispersed of Judah" 
idea. A few years ago, in Savannah, Ga., I was recognized by one 
of the former servants of the family, who had heard nothing from 
his old home in many years. When I gave him the result of death's 
doings, he burst into tears, and declared that he wouldn't eat any 
supper that night ; but whether from grief or lack of the wherewithal, 
I could not tell. A "quarter" caused him to cheer up, however. 

Old Rabb — Afraid of Snakes, etc. 

Mr. and Mrs. Rabb formerly kept the half-way house between 
Columbia and Camden, and the horses for the stages were changed 
there. The fare was plain, and some of the passengers used to com- 
plain that it was a little too much so. The old lady was always very 
apt in her replies about the food — ^if you had only been here yester- 
day, we had such a nice dinner, etc. The old man, in the meantime, 
would attack the bacon and collards (which was believed to be the 
daily dish), saying that anybody who did not eat collards, didn't 
know what was good. Mr. Rabb would come to town occasionally, 
ostensibly to sell some of his superabundant sheep or lambs, but 
really to impregnate his frame with spirits. His stopping-place was 
Hunt's Hotel, and as he told stories credibly, generally met with a 
pleasant reception from the boarders and loungers. He was always 
the hero — never implicated anybody else. Mr. Rabb was terribly 
afraid of snakes. One day he had been working in the field, wear- 
ing a pair of old shoes that exposed his great toe. In getting over 
the rail fence, carrying a hoe over his shoulder, as he was putting 
one leg across, he looked down and saw what he supposed was a 
copper-head snake. He hurriedly raised the hoe, struck — and cut 
off his great toe. That was the snake he had seen. 

The old man dreaded thunder and lightning, and when a storm 
came up, he would crawl into a ditch and get under a little bridge 
over it. One day he had been imbibing too freely from a bottle 
he had carried from town, and he fell asleep. A heavy rain 
fell and he was drowned, to all intents and purposes. He was hauled 
out, and his wife and two or three darkies rolled and turned his 
head down the hill, and finally got five gallons of fluid, by actual 
measurement, out of him — so Mr. R. afterwards declared. 
3— M 


He Obeyed His Father. 

Messrs. Frank and Levi Root came to Columbia from Connecti- 
cut, in 1840, and carried on a tinning business for a time. Frank 
married Miss Mary Heise, while Levi remained a bachelor. In due 
time the married pair had a son, John by name, and a bright lad 
he proved to be. When John was about four years of age, he be- 
came addicted to straying away from home and spending the day. 
His mother punished him, but without avail. Finally she reported 
him to his father, who summoned the boy before him, and with a 
stern face, ordered him not to leave the premises again without 
asking his mother. The next day, John was off once more, and the 
disobedience was reported to the father. John was called and 
promptly appeared. "What did I tell you about going out V "You 
said, ask your mother." "Well, why didn't you ask her?'' "I did, 
sir." "Root, he did no such thing,** was Mrs. Root's indignant 
contradiction. "Yes, ma, I did," was the reply of the youngster. 
Light began to break in on the father. "Well, what did she say, 
when you asked her?" "She said no" John answered. The pa- 
rents were nonplussed. Poor Levi suicided, and Frank died in our 
Lunatic Asylum. John lived to manhood — was a rollicking, honest, 
hard-working man; served through the Confederate war; moved 
West; returned to his old home on a visit a few years ago, and died 
soon afterwards. There were other children. John left a family. 

Nat, Joined the Temperance Society, 
Nat. Monteith was a good-natured, free-and-easy individual from 
boyhood up. He was a great lover of "pot-liquor," and whenever 
cabbage would be prepared for dinner, the cook would invariably 
call to him when she'd hear his well known footsteps, to come and 
get some of the homely beverage. There had been quite a revival 
among the advocates of temperance, and a "Cold Water Army," 
for the benefit of the boys, had been organized — ^backed by a barbe- 
cue in the Court House grounds, northeast corner Main and Wash- 
ington streets. Next day, the cook called to him, that she had his 
"pot-liquor" ready. "No, Aunt Jane, can't take it ; joined the tem- 
perance society." The school-boys got hold of the story and 
attempted to guy Nat., but they soon stopped it — he had a service- 
able pair of fists, and would use them. 

Nat. volunteered in the War Between the States, and his regiment 
was stationed on Morris Island. He obtained a furlough, went 
over to Charleston — ^had a jolly time, and was returning to the island 
by the "Caldwell," when he dropped an axe overboard. He at once 


whipped out his knife and commenced to cut a notch in the railing, 
and when reprimanded by one of the officers of the boat, curtly 
replied, that he was marking the place, so that he could look for it 
when he had more time. Poor Nat. lost his life in Virginia. 

Had a ''Slapdamicus" for Him, 

Our old friend, Sheriff Charles Neuffer, had a warrant for a man, 
charged with some trifling offence, who, when he found that officer 
was after him, determined to give him a long chase. Both were 
mounted, but the offender had the better horse, and kept just far 
enough ahead of the officer to annoy him. He took the Garner's 
Ferry road, and when Sheriff N. got in calling distance, he would 
let off a volley of rough remarks at the discomfited officer. Finally 
they reached the boundary line between Sumter and Richland, wfien 
the delighted law-breaker drew rein, and addressed the officer as 
a "Bull-headed Dutchman," declaring that he was now beyond 
his jurisdiction, and dared him to attempt to arrest him. "Guess 
not,'' replied the angry Sheriff; "I've got a 'Slapdamicus' for you, 
and you'll come, I bet." "The devil you have," was the surprised 
response, and he returned to Richland District, quietly submitting 
to service of the warrant. "What's a 'Slapdamicus?' " inquired a 
curious individual, who had listened to the Sheriff's account of the 
arrest. "D — d if I know," said Sheriff N. "I thought the big word 
would scare him into coming back, and I had no more trouble with 

Austere Man — Didn't Need the Plates. 

The death of Gen. Johnson Hagood was being discussed, when one 
of the party said that he was a fine disciplinarian, and a brave, just 
man, but rather austere. Mr. Constantine, a Greek, who had cooked 
for the General on Sullivan's Island, was passing at the time and 
overheard the comment. "That is so," he put in ; "the General love 
oyster, and I cook 'em for him many time. Sometimes I take too 
much spirits, and go to sleep. When the General see me, he say, 
*Constantine, stop dat ; drink little, but not too much. Go and cook 
me some oyster,' and I go. You bet he love 'em." There was a 
quiet smile, and the ex-cook moved off. 

An old sporting man, named Swan, was an admirer of General 
Hagood, and placed great reliance on the thorough-breds raised by 
that gentleman. Mr. S. had a set of "plates" (thin shoes used on 
race-horses) which had carried many an animal to victory. On his 
death-bed, he sent the plates to his honored friend, saying he was 


going to a land where they would be no use to him, and he hoped 
that they would prove as successful in the General's possession as 
they had been in his. 

Got Even With Judge Melton. 

I was once requested by Judge Samuel W. Melton to testify in 
a case he was interested in, and he impressed it on me to testify only 
as to what I knew — no hearsay ; I promised that I would do so. I 
was subpoenaed, and being put upon the witness stand, the first ques- 
tion was: "What is your name?" "Fm called Julian A. Selby." 
"What is your name?" repeated Judge M., in an abrupt manner. 
"Fve answerd your question as near as I can," I responded. "What 
is^our age ?" followed. "I don't know," I quietly replied. "What's 
the reason you don't know?" fired Judge M. "Well, I was at the 
homing, but was too young to speak knowingly. You particularly 
instructed me to testify only as to what I knew of my own know- 
ledge, and I shall endeavor to do so. The whole community know 
me and the question is superfluous." The Judge was "riled," and 
when I came down, said in an undertone, "You think you are 
d — d smart?" 

Only One Speaker — Maxcey Gregg. 

Maxcey Gregg, Esq. (afterwards General) was an ardent Seces- 
sionist. Previous to the Convention of 1852, public meetings were 
held all over the State, at which prominent orators — Co-operation- 
ists and Secessionists — held forth to large audiences. Arrange- 
ments were made for an immense demonstration here, in the College 
Campus, at which a number of politicians were expected to venti- 
late themselves. The day came and so did crowds of people, but 
not the speakers. Mr. Gregg, as Chairman of the meeting, exhibited 
some uneasiness and annoyance at the non-appearance of the wordy 
combatants. With a short apology for the absentees, the Chairman 
got up and in a speech of nearly two hours, so enthused his immense 
audience that they applauded vociferously, and many rushed upon 
the platform to compliment the speaker for his unanswerable re- 

She Could Carry a Fan. 

Mrs. Peckham was fond of attending picnics. One very warm 
day, her would-be cynical son-in-law, "Fancy" Bill Brown, finding 
she was preparing to go on one of her enjoyable frolics, snarled, 
"Mother, I believe if there was a picnic in the bottomless pit, you'd 
go." "Certainly, William ; I could carry a fan," she quietly replied. 



''Old Prex" Wasn't Left, 

President Maxcey was termed by the collegians '*01d Prex." Some 
of the boys planned to take the family carriage, run it down to 
"Turkey Point*' (two or three hundred yards below the college, 
where chickens, pigs, etc., which happened to get into their posses- 
sion, were willingly prepared by one of the college cooks), remove 
the wheels and hide all among the scrub oaks, which grew in pro- 
fusion in the neighborhood. By some means, "Old Prex" heard of 
the affair. A short time before the appointed hour he entered 
the carriage house, lowered the long curtains and quietly seated 
himself in the vehicle. The boys were on hand soon after and pro- 
ceeded to their work. Not a word was uttered until they were some 
distance from the walls. Arriving at their destination they were 
about to remove the wheels, when, calling them by name, they were 
told to return with the vehicle to its proper place. The silence was 
profound. The ropes were manned and slowly up the hill the cum- 
bersome vehicle was propelled. Of course, the story leaked out, 
but the boys were not reprimanded. They had been punished suffi- 

Junior Class Tricks. 

Professor Brumby, who was a Professor in the College towards 
the close of the forties, got into trouble with the Junior Class, which 
was adjusted in a day or two. The young men of the class with- 
drew in a body, and the night of the day in which the affair occurred, 
they paraded the streets singing: 

Old Brumby said to go, 
But it was no use, you know, 
For Junior Class rose at las' 
And swore they would not go. 

Not much in the way of rhythm or rhyme, but it accomplished 
the purpose. The Professor, as I understand, was popular with 
the class. 

The Class Was Democratic, 

Dr. Priestly Cooper was an eccentric but very talented Professor 
in the College, and his recitations were heard in the third story of 
the building, directly opposite the Chapel. His class conceived the 
brilliant idea of playing a joke on the worthy gentleman, and so they 
procured a venerable goat and strapped him in the Professor's chair, 
where, with spectacles on nose and an open book before him, he 
presented a very dignified appearance. Dr. Cooper came in smiling 


pleasantly and nodding to the assemblage. Seeing the goat, he 
turned coolly around and with the remark, "Young gentlemen, get- 
ting democratic in your ideas, elevating one of your number to the 
chair. Fll leave you together," and soberly marched out, locking 
the door behind him. The door was an extra heavy one and the 
lock in good condition, and the jokers were left in confinement until 
late in the afternoon. 

The Famous Students' Rozv, 

About 1854, a party of students connected with the South Caro- 
lina College got into trouble with the city police, and several were 
arrested, but through the intervention of the Faculty were released. 
Young Albert Rhett was the principal in the affair, backed by his 
brother John (afterwards Mayor of the city). The South Caro- 
linian office was located on Washington street, near Sumter, and 
there was an open lot on the east side. The students were in the 
habit of promenading up and down Main street in parties of three 
and four, during the afternoons and evenings; but, much to my 
surprise, the promenaders were out in full force that morning, going 
up Sumter street. After seeing so many passing at that unusual 
hour, and apparently very quiet, I suspected the cause — that they 
were collecting in the upper part of the city and intended making 
a descent on the guard house and police in force. I immediately 
notified the officials, but not a minute too soon, for in a short time 
large numbers attacked the police, and Chief John Burdell was 
badly beaten, but stood his ground, the policemen present aiding him. 
Chief Burdell seized a gun and kept the party at bay, and the alarm 
bell was rung. Sheriflf Jesse E. Dent arrived promptly and the 
posse comitatus was summoned and at once supplied with muskets 
loaded with a ball and three buckshot — an upper room in the build- 
ing being an armory. The belligerent students hurriedly retired, 
but soon returned — evidently they had gone to the campus to pro- 
cure their guns (as the young men had a well drilled and equipped 
military company) ; but the college officials had taken the precaution 
to secure and remove the weapons to a safe place. Nothing daunted, 
the boys yelled "College!" and their ranks were materially aug- 
mented; but when they found several hundred armed citizens, ex- 
tending from Plain street down Main and around into Washington, 
they were taken completely aback, and they confined themselves to 
the east side, while the posse stood ready for orders on the west. 
Influential citizens and professors from the college mingled in the 
crowd of excited students and attempted to calm them ; while others 


begged the Sheriff to restrain his force. His simple reply was, the 
men will not fire until I order them to do so, and that will not be 
done unless we are attacked. The rioters were finally induced to 
return to the college walls. Their spirits seemed completely broken, 
when they found citizens in such numbers prepared to enforce the 
law. Sheriff Dent appeared as cool as the proverbial cucumber. 
The military companies were under arms all night and ununiformed 
soldiers patrolled the streets, while the Columbia Flying Artillery 
(their pieces loaded with trace-trains, ready to clear the streets, if 
necessary), quartered silently and in darkness in their gun-shed 
until daylight the next morning. The Rhetts and a number of 
other students left the college, the afternoon promenades up and 
down Main street were discontinued, the military company (College 
Cadets) was disbanded, and so the affair ended, much to the grati- 
fication of all parties. There had been serious trouble with these 
young men once or twice before, but armed citizens had not been 
called out; many of our people were much incensed, and expres- 
sions of a determination to put an end to these troubles had been 
freely expressed. 

Headed off the Professor of Greek. 

Col. Chris. Suber, of Newberry, was not a great lover of study — 
of Greek, more particularly. When the time for his graduation 
rolled around, he felt that his chances for obtaining a diploma would 
be terribly slim, on account of his deficiency in the ancient language 
above referred to. After due deliberation, he decided to go to Prof. 
Henry, the Professor of Greek, throw himself on his mercy, and 
persuade him to allow the backward one take the first hundred words 
in the Greek lesson, study them carefully, and thus be enabled to 
get through. The old gentleman was very indignant at the pro- 
posal, and refused in the nearest approach to anger that the good 
soul could possibly exhibit. Suber retired, but a lucky idea struck 
him. Perhaps the Professor would call on him to begin with the 
second hundred. With his usual dependence upon luck, he studied 
and learned the second hundred. On examination day, as he had 
hoped. Professor Henry called on him for the second hundred, which 
he got through without a break, and was highly complimented by 
the gratified Professor. 

Reasonable Objection. 

At a fire in New Dublin (the site of Parker's Hall, and some 
distance to the north), occupied mostly by Irish families, several 
houses had been destroyed, when it was suggested by Prof. Twiss 


to blow Up with gun-powder one or two small buildings to the south, 
in an attempt to stop the spread of the flames in that direction. It 
was done and the fire was stopped. But in the blowing up Prof. 
T. and another one of the Professors were elevated but not seriously 
hurt. A countryman, who had a son in attendance' in the college, 
was highly indignant and declared that his son should no longer go 
to a college where the teachers could not take care of themselves. 
No explanation would suffice, and the boy was withdrawn. 

Took Salt in His Tea. 

A plucky old farmer from the upper part of the State paid a 
visit to his son at the South Carolina College, and took supper with 
him in the Steward's Hall. The salt was in a peculiarly shaped 
vessel, and he put several spoonfuls of it in his tea. Some of the 
boys in his vicinity snickered, but Mr. Farmer paid no attention 
to them, saw he had blundered and determined to get ahead of them. 
He drank his tea, called for another cup, salted it, and calmly swal- 
lowed it. The boys were nonplussed and couldn't hold in. "Put 
salt in your tea, sir?'' asked one of the more inquisitive ones. 
"Always do," was the reply. He didn't like the idea of his son 
being guyed. 

Long Enough Before I Get Another, 

Professor M. J. Williams was crossing the campus one day, when 
he met Chris. Suber carelessly decked in an unusually short dressing 
gown. "Why, Suber, your gown is too short," said the critical 
Professor. "Long enough before I get another," was the drawling 
response. This so amused the old gentleman, that he hurried home 
to tell the joke to his family. Entering the reception room with 
a broad grin on his face, he blurted out : "I didn't know Suber was 
such a witty fellow. I met him on the campus just now, and com- 
mented on an unusually short morning gown which he had on. His 
reply was, 'that it will be some time before I get another' " — 
bursting out into a laugh. The others did not change countenance ; 
so the Professor saw that he had made a mistake somewhere. 
"Well, it sounded very funny just now." 

Not Satisfied with his Resting Place. 
A party of students sauntering through old Potter's Field many 
years ago came across the grave of one of their number who was 
interred in 1815. It was decided to remove him and reinter in 
Elmwood Cemetery. It was done. 



Peculiar Occurrences in this Vicinity. 

That truth is strange — at times stranger than, fiction — I am pre- 
pared to demonstrate by several incidents, or accidents, which have 
occurred in this city and neighborhood. We read frequently of the 
happening of singular events, and the assertion is not uncommon, 
**Oh ! that is impossible." "That is simply fiction," etc. A perusal 
of the following paragraphs, which can be relied upon for their 
correctness, will prove the assertion above made as strictly true : 

The Same Name, 

About twenty-five years ago there was a double christening in the 
Presbyterian Church of this city (now known as the First Church), 
Rev. Dr. Bryson, pastor. One infant was handed to the clergyman, 
and he proceeded with the ceremony, to the intense chagrin of the 
other parents, who attempted to stop Dr. B., but he continued: 
*' Samuel Buchanan, I baptize thee in the name," etc., and returned 
the newly-named babe to the nurse — ^much to the amusement of the 
friends of the other youngster, who, of course, supposed there was 
a blunder. Dr. Bryson then took No. 2, and began, "Samuel Bu- 
chanan," etc. The two children, unknown to the parents (who 
were only slightly acquainted), were furnished with similar names — 
the one for a relative of Mrs. Love residing in New York, and the 
other for a former friend of the McMaster's, residing in Fairfield. 
They were the children, respectively, of Mr. and Mrs. W. D. Love 
and Col. and Mrs. F. W. McMaster. The boys are alive and well, 
but only one of the parents survives — Mrs. Love. 

Strange Fatality, 

Capt. Tom O'Sullivan, a Federal soldier, who fought through the 
Civil War, settled in Columbia in the early seventies. After a short 
time he was appointed a mail agent on the Greenville and Columbia 
Railroad, and made many friends, old and young, by his kindness 
and geniality — in fact, was almost universally called "Uncle Tom," 
especially by the children. He attended to his official duties care- 
fully, and would pass out mail matter at points along the road away 
from a post office; distribute papers in sparsely settled neighbor- 
hoods, etc. He seemed particularly gratified when able to accom- 
modate any one — acquaintance or stranger. At Belton, on one oc- 
casion, where the railroad to Anderson and Walhalla connects with 
the main line (Anderson being the end of his run). Captain O'S. 



was requested to stop for the night, and be present at a frolic to be 
given there. He declined, as he had to come out the next morning 
with his mail from Anderson. His friends insisted, asserting that a 
special was to pass some hours later, and he could go through on 
that, or that he should be carried up in a buggy, if the special failed. 
He still declined, when several of his friends by main force detained 
him, and the train rolled off without the mail agent. Broadaway 
Creek, a dangerous stream at times, ordinarily only a few feet wide, 
suddenly arose, washed away the trestle or bridge, the train was sub- 
merged and all on board were drowned. Capt. O'Sullivan lost his 
position some time afterward, returned to Columbia and worked 
successfully several months at his trade — watch and clock repairing. 
()nc night as he was leaving Heitsch's restaurant, a pistol shot was 
firerl, and the Captain fell dead — a bullet ranging upwards through 
his heart. A colored man who held the weapon was arrested, but 
persisted in the assertion that the weapon exploded accidentally, and 
was pointing downwards. A careful examination of the pavement 
showed that the ball struck, glanced upwards, and killed the unfor- 
tunate man. The suspected man was released. 

A tragic affair of a similar nature occurred to a colored man 
named Goodwin. As he was attempting to escape from a police- 
man, opposite the post office, the officer pointed his pistol towards 
the ground and (fired, in order to frighten the prisoner ; but the bullet 
struck the pavement, glanced, hit the fleeing man and killed him. 
A coroner's jury exonerated the officer, as it was a clear case of acci- 
dental homicide. 

Teachers in the Old Homestead. 

For many years, beginning in the early forties, what is known as 
the Hampton Mansion was occupied by Gen. John S. Preston and 
his family. A life-long intimacy existed between the eldest daugh- 
ter, Miss Mary (afterwards Mrs. John T. Darby), and Miss Isabel 
Martin, the daughter of highly esteemed neighbors, and the two 
were nearly inseparable — in fact, the mansion was almost the home 
of the neighbor friend. At the close of the war, Gen. Preston 
decided to go abroad and reside with his family — he really feared 
confiscation of his valuable property. After a several years resi- 
dence and travel in Europe, the Prestons returned to America. Dr. 
and Mrs. Darby located in New York, where the doctor built up a 
lucrative practice, and was also chosen professor in a prominent 
medical college. P>lood poisoning from a careless operation caused 
his death, and his wife and children returned to Columbia. In the 


meantime, the homestead had changed hands several times — ^being 
first occupied by the notorious Governor Franklin J. Moses, then by 
the Rev. Mr. Dodge and family, then by the Catholics as a Nunnery, 
and was finally purchased by the Presbyterians, and converted into a 
Female College. 

Gen. Preston's property disappeared; he and his wife died, and 
his daughter, Mrs. Darby, and her friend. Miss I. D. Martin, took 
positions in the old homestead as teachers. Who will say that Co- 
lumbia cannot furnish wonderful changes and peculiar circum- 
stances ? 

"A Slick Duck''—W, W, Walker, Jr. 

We had a young man here in the fifties who was troubled with the 
*'drop of the eyes" — couldn't look you straight in the face — Wm. W. 
Walker, Jr. He was connected with the Washington Street Church 
and led the choir for a time. He was looked upon as studious, reli- 
giously inclined, and some even thought he was quietly preparing 
for the ministry. His father was of the well known firm of Stephen- 
son & Walker, merchant tailors. About 1855, an advertisement ap- 
peared in the London Times, and in the New York Times, notifying 
William W. Walker, Jr., that he had fallen heir to a large estate in 
England. Some of us could not understand how a younger son 
could inherit over an elder brother; this Willie explained after a 
fashion, but not altogether satisfactory. Papers were soon after- 
wards received from England bearing a number of crown-covered 
seals, etc. On the faith of this apparently official evidence. Walker 
raised money without difficulty — a firm of private bankers in 
Charleston advanced him something over $1,000, while smaller 
amounts were obtained from different parties. Various excuses 
were given as to why he did not go across the water and get posses- 
sion of his inheritance, until the money-lenders began to get suspici- 
ous and the trap was sprung. Willie was the Secretary and Trea- 
surer of the Athenaeum, a reading room which had been started 
through the liberality of Hon. Wm. C. Preston, who donated his 
valuable library to it, aided by other citizens who contributed until 
there was quite a respectable display of books. The whole of the 
second story of the brick building on the southeast corner of Main 
and Washington streets (now occupied by the Skyscraper) was se- 
cured for library and exhibition purposes — ^the hall on the left and 
the library on the right as you entered. Everything was moving 
along satisfactorily, and additions of books and manuscripts were 
being constantly made by purchase and donation. Mr. John M. 


Allen, one of the Directors, whose store was in the first story (Allen 
& Phillips), was informed by the out-door Clerk of the Branch 
r>ank, Mr. "Mark** Brown, that the Athenaeum funds had been 
removed from that depository, and the officers were curious as to 
the cause. Mr. Brown was informed that he knew nothing about 
the matter, but would inquire. Mr. A. immediately went up stairs 
to con\numicate with the Treasurer, who expressed surprise at this 
information, and said it was altogether a mistake. Picking up his 
hat. Walker suggested that Mr. Allen should accompany him to 
the bank and have an explanation from the officials as to the matter. 
Thin ho declined to do, saying it was unnecessary ; Walker insisted, 
and Mr. A. finally declared that he didn't care anything about the 
matter; that Walker could make it all right. This was Saturday 
morning, and Mr. A. thought nothing more of the affair. On Mon- 
day the Athenaeum rooms were not opened, and inquirers at 
Walker's house were informed that he had not been seen since 
Saturday noon. The funds had been removed from the bank, but 
found lodgment in Walker's pockets. Nothing more was seen of 
the delii\quent. It was found upon investigation that a man had 
boon sent to London, who by some means had gotten hold of neces- 
sary legal papers, forms, etc., and shrewdly worked up a very 
|>lau»ible story and exhibit — publishing the advertisements before 
loforred to. Walker, the scheming thief, had been paying attention 
lo a Yvnmg lady from Charleston, and one day took her out for a 
vlrivo, Heing unskilled in the management of a horse, he succeeded 
in throwing her out of the vehicle, and she was made a cripple for 

History of a Household — The Neuffer Family, 

\\\ uKI and tried friend was Mr. Charles Neuffer, a well known 
tlv^niau v'ili^en, who was the Sheriff of the District for several 
Iv^uu^ I lis first wife. Miss Sarah Geiger, died, and left him with 
tlvuv s hilvlven — Harman, Charles and Sallie. He some years after- 
\\,udt» marvieil another Miss Geiger, of Lexington, a relative of his 
lu a\ v\ iU^ Abimt the time the parties were to have been married, the 
jti,i^|HH"tivv» bride had a dangerous attack of fever, during which at 
MuiN 3 \w uund was somewhat affected. In one of these spells she 
..y.^ \\y\\>\\ If^cerated her throat. She finally recovered and ever after- 
\\^\\\\\ VV^^V^ <^ high collar, to hide the scar in her neck. Soon after 
\\\\\\ u\*MVi<iije the old-fashioned residence, with a piazza extending 
iUy. \'M\\\^ Iv^ngth, on the east side of Sumter street, between Gervais 
^uvi Irtvl.Vi W^s purchased and the family occupied it — the elderly 


mother of the bride accompanying them. Two children — Adam and 
Dorothy — were born to the Neuffers,and the two sets of children ap- 
peared to get along remarkably well. Harman and Charles, Jr. — 
two bright and popular young men — went into the army. Harman 
died, and his remains were brought to Columbia for interment. 
(The father had procured a sutler's position so as to be near his 
boys.) Charles, Jr., disappeared at Gettysburg, and Sam Bunch, a 
comrade, claimed that he knew that he was killed and could find the 
body; but he was unsuccessful in his search. The health of the 
father soon gave way — he contracted a terrible cold, which, with the 
death of two of his sons, carried him off. His mother-in-law, Mrs. 
Geiger, died soon after, followed by her grand-daughter, Dorothy, 
from diphtheria. Adam, the son by the second wife, who had vol- 
unteered and was doing duty on the coast, was killed at Adams Run. 
The slaves (and they had a large number) were emancipated; then 
followed Sherman's uncalled for work, and the family residence was 
destroyed. The widow was left an orphan in every sense of the 
word — father, mother, husband, children, and property being taken 
from her. She succeeded in raising money enough to build a two- 
room shelter on the site of the homestead, where, assisted by friends, 
and materially aided by faithful servants, who were quartered on the 
opposite side of the street, she eked out an existence for ten years. 
Two brothers living in Alabama, who were said to be in rather 
straitened circumstances, offered to take care of the bereaved widow 
if she would come to them. This she peremptorily refused to do, 
and she died on the loved spot. The only child (Sallie) of the two 
sets, married Mr. James Kenneth, a former resident of the city, and 
removed to St. Louis, Mo., where they were still living at last ac- 
counts. This is literally the "History of a Household." 

Mr. Charles Neuffer was the nephew of Mr. John Neuffer, an 
aged butcher, who formerly lived on the northeast corner of Main 
and Blanding streets. At his death his widow and three children — 
Caroline, John and Charles — removed to Columbus, Ga. Caroline 
married a Beech, and died, leaving children; John was drowned; 
Charles was killed in Virginia. A brother of Mr. Charles Neuffer, 
Gaudaloupe, married and lived in Orangeburg, where he left de- 

Lived Tivo Hours with a Wound in the Heart, 

John Sloan, a respectably-connected young man from the up- 
country, got into a difficulty with J. M. Sharpe, of this District, in 
the basement saloon of D. Caldwell's Hotel, during which Sloan was 


Stabbed in the heart, causing a wound nearly an inch long. The 
weapon, so witnesses testified, was a pocket knife ; but the surgeons 
who held the post mortem examination, declared that it was impossi- 
ble for such a wound to have been made with such an instrument. 
As soon as possible after the cutting (or stab) Sloan was conducted 
to Dr. A. W. Kennedy's office, directly opposite, the blood spurting 
in jets. The doctor informed the injured man that he was mor- 
tally wounded and could live but a few minutes "That's hard," was 
the sad reply. Leaning on the arm of a friend, Sloan walked to his 
room in the rear of the hotel, and lay down on his bed. Much to 
the surprise of attending physicians, the poor fellow lived nearly two 
hours. His heart was afterwards removed and put into a large- 
mouthed bottle filled with alcohol, and was kept in Dr. R. W. Gibbes* 
office. The alcohol finally evaporated and the heart had to be buried. 
The case was commented on by a number of medical journals — some 
expressing doubt as to the correctness of the statement. Sharpe 
was acquitted. He was defended by Capt. James D. Tradewell and 
F. J. Moses, Esq. (afterwards Chief Justice of the Supreme Court). 
Solicitor Simeon Fair prosecuted the case. 

Singular Circumstances, 

A few years ago, while visiting the Government Medical Museum, 
in Washington, with a lady who was interested in medicine and sur- 
gery, one of the attendants called attention to a number of specimens 
of wounds, contained in jars — some of them of the heart. I told 
him that South Carolina was in the lead, and described as well as I 
could John Sloan's case; but he evidently thought I was mistaken. 
In the course of our peregrinations, we came to a leg which was 
pretty well jagged, and he remarked that the owner was still alive. 
In reply to a question as to who the party was, he smiled and said it 
was No. 700. A little later he added, apologetically, that the owner 
of the leg was known to me, perhaps — ^that it was Gen. Daniel E. 
Sickles. "Yes,** I replied, "he was once head of the military divi- 
sion of South Carolina." I had seen him several times in Charles- 
ton. (An Irishman who had been too severely punished, as he 
thought, for some offense, when informed who his judge was, turned 
and hurled the sneering remark at the officer : "Fm not surprised at 
anything you do — you are the man who killed his best friend" — 
referring to Philip Barton Key). That evening — a rainy, sleety 
one — while coming out of the waiting room at the Pennsylvania 
depot, I came up with an elderly gentleman on crutches. I assisted 
him down the steps, with the excuse that they were damp and slip- 


pery. When we reached the pavement, the one-legged man turned 
and abruptly said, "Thank you." Although he had aged consider- 
ably, I thought I recognized him as Gen. Sickles. Turning to a 
reverend-looking colored man just behind, I asked if that was Gen. 
Sickles? "That's Daniel," he replied. 

Silent Clock Struck i — Sick Man Died, 

Mr. William Hillegas died at a late hour of the night. On the 
mantelpiece in his bed-room stood an old time-piece which had not 
been running for nearly twenty years. As the hour of 1 came 
around, the dumb clock pealed one. The sick man was aroused by 
the singular occurrence; said it was a bad sign for him, and soon 
after gave up the ghost. 

Light Went Out, so Did a Life. 

Another instance of what proved to be a forerunner of death oc- 
curs to me. Willie DeBruhl, the only son of Mr. Jessie DeBruhl 
by his first wife, while shooting bull-bats, received a load of small 
shot in the head from a gun in the hands of a young man named 
Bird, a very gentlemanly appearing stranger. (Mr. B. introduced 
fancily painted oil-cloth table covers here — something new.) It was 
clearly an accident, but poor Bird was completely broken down by it. 
I was present when the shooting occurred. We were boarding at 
the time at the Globe Hotel, kept by Mr. William Reeder and his 
wife, where the post office now stands. Fearful of worrying young 
DeBruhl's relatives by his appearing at the house, he engaged me to 
go twice a day to inquire about the wounded youngster. The patient 
seemed to be doing very well, although the physicians could see no 
hopes for his recovery. This was in the oil lamp days. One night 
while the solitary lamp in the sick room was apparently burning all 
right, it suddenly went out. Young DeBruhl noticed it, turned to 
his mother and said quietly, "I know what that sign means — good- 
bye," and died before the lamp could be relighted. Dr. Samuel Fair, 
of Newberry, who had graduated in Paris and lately begun the prac- 
tice of medicine in Columbia, attended the. young man, and after- 
wards married his sister. The grave is unmarked in the Presby- 
terian Church-yard. 

Life is Truly Uncertain. 

About 1853, a ruddy-complected, stout-built Irishman, Mike 
Hogan by name, married the eldest daughter of Mr. William Beard. 
The bride was delicate, and many individuals prophesied a short 
matrimonial career. They had one daughter, Marie. Soon after 


the birth of the child, the hearty-appearing father was taken off by 
typhoid fever. The child grew to womanhood, and married Paul 
Joyner, a counterpart in looks and size of the wife and father. A 
child was born to them. After several years, Mrs. J. and the child 
died. Paul afterwards married a woman from the West, through 
a matrimonial agency. He went to meet his expected bride at the 
train, rushed in on the arrival of the cars, and the first female he 
saw, embraced and kissed her. "Is this Dr. S. ?" said the stranger. 
"No, Fm Mr. Joyner." A scream followed and then an explanation. 
The proper individual was discovered, and in due time the parties 
were* married. In a year or two the Westerner tired of her husband, 
and a peculiar death resulted — and some folks were cruel enough 
to suspect the woman, but there was no investigation. The delicate 
wife lived to see hearty individuals taken away many years before 
her call came. 

Lost Family of Five Children in Five Weeks, 

Mr. and Mrs. A. C. Squier, kind-hearted, religious, charitable 
people, had an unusually sad experience with their children. Dur- 
ing the absence of the father on business at the North (he was a 
clothing and furniture dealer, as well as undertaker), the baby died 
of scarlet fever. As the absent parent was daily expected to reach 
home, the corpse was kept unburied for several days. The other 
children contracted the disease, and the following Sunday two were 
buried; the Sunday after, the last two — five in all — who attended 
the double funeral the week before, were laid to rest. A family of 
five children carried off in five weeks. In years following they were 
blessed with five more little ones, but sudden death carried off three 
of them — one was killed by the falling of a wall at the burning of 
Gregg's Hall, southwest corner Main and Taylor streets, while two 
others died from different causes. 

A Chapter of Accidents, 

A well known citizen and church member has been unusually 
unfortunate. While cutting the root of a bamboo brier (famous 
for walking canes), his knife slipped and penetrated the brain of a 
young comrade, killing him instantly. In Fort Moultrie, at the 
beginning of the war, he and a youthful soldier were handling a 
revolver, when the weapon was accidentally discharged and the 
youngster was killed. Several years ago, while in a store, there was 
an explosion which demolished the window glasses, and slightly hurt 
several clerks. The supposition is that fire from his cigar must 


by some means have been communicated to a can of gunpowder, 
witb the result mentioned. Soon after that, while cleaning his gun 
on a hunting frolic, accompanied by an elderly man, he ifilled the 
barrel with hot water and gave it a shake. The gun proved to be 
loaded; was accidentally discharged, and the water and other con- 
tents passed a short distance above his companion's head, who took 
his equipments and went home. Our friend certainly has a touch of 
"Murad the Unlucky" in his composition. It is to be hoped that he 
has passed the line, and will now have better luck. 

Cases Someivhat Like Baby Farming, 

Columbia can ''keep up with the procession'' in a variety of ways 
— not alone in improvements. Jack, the well known blind boy, is 
one of the instances referred to. The young child of a mother, a 
little off color, died, and as there was another infant that parties 
desired looked after, he was substituted for the dead one — not ex- 
actly as in the case of baby farming recorded in "Pinafore." The 
child's eyes were neglected, opthalmia resulted, and the unfortunate 
creature is hopelessly blind. The parties interested in trying to hide 
the parentage of the innocent little being, overshot the mark. The 
nurse was cornered, questioned as to the substitution, got very angry, 
"shot off her mouth," and gave the name of the mother. Other 
proof obtained settled the matter so clearly, that it is generally 
given up that the child is pure white. 

The two foundlings discovered the same night — one at the door 
of Lee Roberts and the other at Dad Wadlow's — were accidentally 
changed. The one bore such a resemblance to the mother that many 
recognized her ; while the other was furnished with a letter — "not to 
be opened until you are of age" — which properly belonged to the 
first. The one married, and is believed to be living in New York ; 
while the other married and died here. 

Two Similar Sums. 

Two or three years after the close of the war, Mrs. Thos. P. 
Walker, widow of the elder brother of William W. Walker, a de- 
faulter, received a notification from a courtly official in Connecticut, 
that by death of W. W. Walker, a resident of that town, Thos. P. 
Walker was entitled to a legacy of seventeen hundred and some odd 
dollars. The same mail brought a notice from the Census Bureau in 
Washington, that the claim of Thos. P. Walker, for services in 
taking the census in Richland District, S. C, in 1860, had been 
favorably acted upon, and the money, seventeen and some hundred 
4 — M 


dollars, was subject to his order. The cash in both cases was re- 
ceived in due time. Two similar sums of money from different 
sources to be notified about the same day, was certainly singular. 
But truth, etc., you know. 

Terrible Night — Stopped the Clock, 

Dick W. was a genial, witty individual, devoted to his business 
during the day, but addicted to night drinking and eating eggs as a 
strengthener. Scientists claim that a superabundance of egg food 
affects the brain. A dozen and on one occasion a dozen and a half 
eggs, Dick had been known to consume at a sitting. He made 
threats about committing suicide on several occasions, but never 
treated his wife badly except on one memorable occasion. He came 
liome one night, in a nervous and apparently unhappy frame of mind. 
After making an attempt at eating supper, he seated himself quietly 
before the fire-place. His wife joined him soon afterwards, with a 
bit of needle-work in her hands. In a few minutes, Dick looked up 
at the clock, and remarked in an audible, steady tone of voice, that 
when the hands of the clock on the mantel-piece pointed to 12, he 
intended to kill her, the children and himself, producing a six-shooter 
pistol ; that he had been robbed of everything he had in the world, 
and he would not leave his family to starve after he was gone. Just 
then the dog in the yard began to bark savagely. "There,'' was the 
comment, "some scoundrel is trying to rob us of the little we have.'' 
With that he got up and went out into the yard, carrying his pistol 
with him. The long-headed, thoughtful wife immediately raised up 
and stopped the clock. One would have supposed that she rushed 
into the street and called for help. But no. The loaded weapon in 
the desperate man's hands made her aware of the danger of such a 
proceeding — he could kill the children and himself before help could 
be obtained. Dick, on his return, seated himself and occasionally 
looked up at the clock — fully impressed with his murderous idea, 
but not noticing that the time-keeper was not recording the weary 
hours. Daylight finally appeared, when the partially sobered man 
took a final look at the clock and said, "My dear, it's daylight; see 
about my breakfast. I must get to the gallery." And yet the hair 
of the faithful wife was not "turned white in a single night," as 
might have been surmised. Poor Dick suicided soon afterwards, 
and the terrible story related above was told by the afflicted widow 
at the coroner's inquest. The verdict of the jury was that the act 
had been committed while the deceased was temporarily insane. The 
life insurance was paid without serious objection by the company. 



Shivernell, Johnston, McWhirter and Others, 

Henry Shivernell was one of that class. On his tramps he wore 
an old-fashioned beaver that looked as if it had passed through 
several St. Patrick's celebrations. He thought nothing of a walk 
from Columbia to Charleston and back, when he got an industrial 
fit, and printing was at a low ebb here, or fish didn't bite satisfac- 
torily. His wife generally put a shirt in his hat, and off he would 
start on his 110 mile walk. Stopping at a branch which crosses the 
main road about six miles out of the old city (near the supposed site 
of Fisher slaughter-house of eighty years ago), would wash his soiled 
garment, spread it on the grass to dry, eat his lunch, take a short nap, 
put the cleansed garment in the "tile," and then complete his jour- 
ney. He decided finally to take a trip to New York, using his 
natural propellers. Arriving in Trenton, N. J., he secured tempo- 
rary employment. After working two weeks and no money forth- 
coming, "Shove" whipped the proprietor, knocked his type into pi, 
and continued his march to Gotham ; but he remained there only a 
short time, giving as an excuse that it "was too far to the woods," 
and he couldn't fish in the new-fangled style. He packed his hat 
and returned to Columbia by his line — not by stealing railroad rides. 

"Shove" went to Mexico as a volunteer. While crossing the Gulf 
of Mexico, he got into a difficulty with one of his officers, knocked 
him down, and when an attempt was made to arrest him, jumped 
overboard and struck out — where he didn't know. He was rescued, 
but the officer declined to press the matter. He had been presented 
with a Bible (as were all the company) by Dr. Benj. M. Palmer; he 
put the good book in an inner pocket, and thought no more of it. 
At the Churubusco fight, a bullet struck him and penetrated the 
Bible more than half through. His comment was that he always 
heard the good book "was a means of saving grace" — it certainly 
saved "Shove." On his return he got control of "The Lighthouse," 
northeast corner of Gervais and Lincoln streets — recently removed 
by the Seaboard Railroad authorities — where he dispensed fluids 
and manipulated "short cards." 

A "Stiff Dummy." 

Mrs. Sarah Brown, a woman connected with a good family in 
Camden, whose husband was postmaster in that town, and was killed 
in a difficulty with Dick Brunson, removed to Columbia, with her 
young son, John, and opened a house of questionable reputation on 


Gervais street (now occupied by the Murray Drug Co.) John died, 
and *'Shove" had the corpse carried to his saloon, where he was 
''laid out" up stairs. The three sitters-up got tired of talking, and 
a game of "dummy" whist was proposed, "Shove" agreeing to take 
the corpse as his partner. The novelty of the idea pleased the other 
spiritualists. Brown's stiffening body was strapped in a chair, and 
the game proceeded. Luck ran against the corpse-partner, when 
"Shove" slapped it, and used strong language about his being "no 
good." The ex-soldier was really a kind-hearted man, but famous 
for his out-of-the way proceedings. 

Fishing First, Work Afterwards, 

"Shove" was a great fisherman, as was his employer, Mr. Albert 
Sidney Johnston, for whom our former park was named. Employed 
and employer would take a notion to go fishing, when hurried 
work was on hand, and even take the colored pressman, Peter, 
along — ^to get bait, prepare the tackle and look after lunch. The 
foreman would be horrified, but Mr. J. was boss. Mr. Johnston's 
sole reply would be : "Monsieur, work can wait, but Shivernell can- 
not; and I require a little recreation." 

Wonderful Pumpkins in Virginia, 

My first recollection of Mr. Johnston was the wonderful stories 
he would tell about Virginia. "Lightwood Knot Springs" was a 
sort of resort for Columbians. It was run by Mr. Stephen Smith 
and his wife. The springs are still there — a few miles from town, 
on the now Charlotte, Columbia and Augusta Railroad — ^but the 
cottages have disappeared. Mr. Johnston was a young man at the 
time and newly arrived from Virginia; ran a printing office, and 
in connection with Mr. DuBose, of Fairfield, published The Tele- 
scope. One of his stories impressed me as something truly wonder- 
ful. It was to this effect : His father had a brood sow of fine stock, 
which suddenly disappeared. Search was made for her, and finally 
they found an immense pumpkin vine growing on the banks of a 
creek running through his farm. The vine was of unusual size 
and extended across the creek aforesaid — so large, in fact, that 
Mr. Johnston, Sr., had no trouble in using it as a bridge. He crossed 
and after a walk of several hundred yards, came to an immense 
pumpkin; hearing grunting and similar noises, he walked around 
the monster vegetable, and there, comfortably ensconsed within its 
shell, was his lost hog and thirteen pigs. The animal had eaten 
the inside and left the shell onlv. 


Doctors No Good, Mr. Lindfors Thought, 

Mr. C. J. Lindfors and his clerk, Diedrick, occupied rooms adja- 
cent to Mr. Johnston, on Stanley's alley, on the site of the Bryan 
Printing Co. Mr. L. had an ugly wound on the leg, caused by a 
"snag," and Dr. Fair had given him directions as to a peculiar poul- 
tice to be applied to the wound when he was ready for bed. Died- 
rick and Mr. L. were celebrating some German festival, and 
evidently got a little mixed when putting on the medicament. In 
the morning, Mr. Lindfors ''raised Cain" and aroused the neighbor- 
ing sleepers — declared doctors were no good, and that instead of 
the poultice helping his wounded leg, it had made the other sore. 
Mr. Johnston, attracted by the unusual noise, dressed and visited 
his neighbor's room, and made the discovery that the preparation 
intended to relieve the bad leg had been put on the good one. Mr. 
Johnston, as was his inevitable custom, put his hands under his coat- 
tails and stalked out. Mr. Lindfors calmed down. 


Up in a Balloon.'* 

Bob McWhirter was a noted "sport" and all-around good fellow, 
who made Columbia his headquarters for a time during the fifties. 
One day, in company with a number of friends, he was boasting of 
what he could do, and the fun-loving butcher, Mr. Nathaniel Pope, 
offered to bet him a race-horse against $3 that he wouldn't go up 
in a balloon. A hot-air aeronaut. Wells, was to make an ascension 
next day, from the hill on which the upper reservoir is now located, 
9n the southeast corner of Richland and Gates streets. An arrange- 
ment was made with Wells, and McWhirter prepared himself for 
his dangerous feat by getting "full." He contracted to distribute 
a lot of circulars during his flight; but as the smoky vessel shot 
upward, a rope caught, the basket tilted, and McWhirter had to 
hold on like grim death — ^the circulars were distributed without 
trouble. The amateur aeronaut ascended somewhat intoxicated, but 
when he came down he was thoroughly sobered. The balloon 
lodged in a tree in the cemetery, and McWhirter reached terra firma 
unhurt. Mr. Pope's comment on the fool-hardy exploit was : "Mc- 
Whirter, you" re a d — d — er fool than I thought you were ; come and 
get the horse." The winner magnanimously returned the animal 
for $25. 

When the war came on, McWhirter volunteered in Capt. Tom 
Taylor's troop of mounted men. His "green cloth" and his famous 
horse, "Gimlet," were well known. While on a scout with Capt. 


James McFee, their little squad rode out into the **open," and half 
a mile off loomed up a regiment of Federal mounted men. The 
order was quietly given to retire; they soon heard the yells of the 
pursuers, and then it was "every man for himself." Mc.'s horse 
was not equal to the emergency, and was soon left behind. "Good- 
bye, Cads ; Gimlet's give out !" yelled Mc, and was soon overhauled. 
He made two attempts to escape and nearly reached Richmond, but 
was recaptured. I heard nothing more of him until some years 
after the close of the war, when in Charlotte, N. C, I recognized 
him, and inquired "if he was not the man who went up in a balloon 
from Columbia, S. C, about 1857?" "Yes," was the reply. "Come 
here and tell these d — d cusses about it — ^they don't believe me." 
I satisfied them by my account of the affair, which highly gratified 
the hero of the event. 

Mr. Mc. changed his green cloth to Lancaster, S. C. He had as 
a servant a colored boy whom he thoroughly relied upon; but the 
temptation of a fancy pair of pants, with $300 in the pocket, was 
too much for the "brother," and he skipped, but was soon after- 
wards caught and imprisoned. McWhirter was furious at the loss 
of his pants, didn't care a cuss about the money, as he could get 
more, and vowed vengeance against the criminal ; but when the poor 
fellow promised never to steal again, Mc. restored him to his good 
f^raccs, after exploding a few strong epithets, and giving as an 
excuse for his leniency, "That all men would steal if they got a 
chance, and the scads were big in amount." Mc. died a few years 
n^o in I Lancaster. 

IV ore One Pair Wedding Gloves Thrice. 
My old friend, Mrs. Jane Reeder, was married three times- 

Charlcft Oliver, William C. Reeder and Dr. Thompson, of Atlanta, 
Ga, It is of the last marriage I propose to speak. It was a terribly 
cold nijifht. The ceremony was performed at the residence of Mrs. 
M, W. Stratton, a cousin, on the northeast corner of Gervais and 
A^%ttm\Ay Ktreets. The bride was arrayed in full dress, with low 
nrrk and nhort glecves. The groom wore a suit of Kentucky jeans, 
a pair of l>n>wn woolen gloves covering his hands. After the con- 
cluhirMi of tlu* CL*rt*mony, and while the assembled friends were play- 
inf^ i\\v. ;i^rccal)le, the Doctor blurted out, "My dear, I can say what 
yow catj't Ihrnr j^^Iovch," holding up his hands, "have performed 
the Hanu* duty twicr before." Imagine the feelings of the hand- 
somely allircd bride. The |;(room was noted for his carelessness in 


The third Mrs. Thompson only lived about three years. Dr. T. 
married again. Years afterwards I met the old gentleman in the 
lobby of the Kimball House, of which he was the principal owner. 
I did not recognize him, but heard some one address me by name ; 
he came forward and saluted me, saying, pleasantly, that my not 
recognizing him was due to his change of style of dress — or his 
"good clothes,'' as he expressed it. Wife No. 4 looked after his 
apparel, and cured him thoroughly of his careless habits. He was 
decked in a broadcloth suit, and there were no tobacco stains around 
the corners of his mouth. 

Dr. Thompson owned a large amount of land in the then village 
of Atlanta, and held on to it, until he realized excellent prices. He 
was the proprietor of the first hotel erected there — the Trout House, 
the eating place for railroad passengers for many years entering 
the "Gate City," as it was soon dubbed. One day, a traveler had 
eaten dinner, and stopped to pay for the satisfactory meal. "Land- 
lord," he said, pleasantly, "what do you charge for dinner?" "We 
charge one dollar ; but cash fifty cents," was the reply of Boniface. 
"Well, charge it, then," and he sauntered out. The account is still 
open. "I never jested with passengers after that," added the ex- 

Landlord and Yellow Fever Guest. 

Mr. A. M. Hunt, of the United States Hotel, located on the south- 
east corner of Main and Lady streets, was a landlord of the old 
Virginia style — everything clean and comfortable, and food well 
prepared. His good wife aided him materially. A guest was 
strictly a guest, was the old gentleman's idea, sick or well. During 
a yellow fever epidemic in Charleston, a stranger came up and 
quartered with Mr. Hunt. He was taken ill that night, and his 
physician pronounced it yellow fever. The case was reported to 
the Board of Health, and those officials ordered the patient removed 
to quarters which would be prepared for him. This Mr. H. refused 
to allow, saying the man was his guest, and would stay where he 
was until he got well or died. The Town Council was called to- 
gether 5Lnd issued a peremptory order of removal. In the meantime, 
Mr. Hunt had loaded his double-barreled gun with buck-shot, and 
stationed himself at the sick man's door. Beverly Nash, his major 
domo, was sent into the room to nurse the patient. The officials 
soon arrived and gave the orders of the Council ; to which Mr. Hunt 
replied, there was no danger, as yellow fever could not live here. 
The officers insisted — saying their orders were peremptory. Mr. 


H. replied, that there were thirty buck-shot in each barrel (patting 
his fowling-piece), and the first man who attempted to interfere 
with anybody in his house, would get one or both. He was then 
informed that all his boarders would leave if the fever patient re- 
mained. The reply was, that they could leave and be d — d. The 
sober second-thought, backed up by the gun, prevailed. The guests 
decided, that if the landlord was not afraid of the contagion, they 
shouldn't be, and none left. The patient recovered. The affair 
occurred when I was quite a youngster; so, to be sure that I was 
correct in my recollection, I asked Nash about it. He said, in reply, 
that he was scared nearly to death and thought of jumping out of 
the window; but he knew old marster's disposition, and that shot 
could fly faster than he could jump, so he remained. 

It is due to Beverly Nash to say that he assisted in the support 
of Mrs. Hunt during the balance of her life. He didn't "hanker 
after'' old marster, however. 

Recognising a Peculiar Habit, 

John Robinson, the veteran showman, put in an appearance here 
a few months before his death, and made inquiries about numbers 
of his old acquaintances. The name of a hotel man he could not 
recollect, but got up from his chair, and stepped around rapidly, 
looking at the ceiling. I understood at once, and replied, "Mr. 
Davis Caldwell." "That's it; how did you guess?" he queried. It 
was Mr. Caldwell's habit when trying to sneeze to run out and 
look at the sun. It made no difference whether engaged in conver- 
sation or whatever he might be doing, he must have his sneeze. 

Knew the Lord's Prayer, 

"Dad" Wadlow was a good-hearted, all-around Baltimore sport- 
ing man, who would take chances on anything — from a fly alighting 
on a lump of sugar to a little pair of deuces at poker. "Dad" 
claimed to have been brought up by religious parents, and that he 
was a regular attendant at Sunday School. "Bet you $5 that you 
can't say the Lord's Prayer," was the reply of a listener. "Now 
I lay me down to sleep," began the witty man. "Here's your 
money," replied his opponent; "but I'll get even with you." He 
would divide his last dollar with a distressed individual. A great 
friend of his (Lou. C), a fellow-sport, died, and "Dad" wrote a 
letter, directed to his Satanic Majesty, and put it in the dead man's 
hands, placed a similar direction on the ace of spades and nailed 
it to the coffin. And yet he was not of a heartless nature by any 


means, but only wanted to put on a dare-devil air. The Lord's 
Prayer story may have originated elsewhere, but "Dad" certainly 
got it off and pocketed the money. Like a joke attributed to Mr. 
James L. Petigru, who replied in his squeaky voice, "Sheridan was 
credited with that joke a hundred years ago, and it was believed 
that he stole it." 

Editorials — Lengthy vs. Short. 

Mr. Samuel Weir established and edited The Chronicle, and he 
made it warm for parties who opposed him. Col. A. H. Pemberton, 
of The South Carolinian, would occasionally have a spat with Mr. 
Weir. At one time they went into personalities. Mr. W. and his 
wife did not agree and she left him and returned to her Pennsyl- 
vania home, leaving her two children — George and Catharine — here. 
Mr. P. and his mother disagreed, and she returned to her old home. 
Col. P. would publish an editorial of from one to three columns 
in length, while Mr. Weir could ventilate any subject in from twenty 
to fifty lines — seldom more. Col. P., in one of his lengthy articles, 
charged Mr. W. with whipping his wife and running her off. Mr. 
W. replied in a few terse lines, to the effect that it was bad for a 
man to whip his wife, and some parties might believe the false re- 
port; but if it was bad to beat a wife, how much worse was it to 
whip the mother that bore you, and throw her into a well. As soon • 
as he read this article. Col. P. grasped a cowhide and limped down 
to the office of the offender ; but friends of the parties were on hand 
and prevented any belligerent act. The breach was patched up — 
Mr. W. saying he rather thought one report was about as true as 
the other. Occasionally The Chronicle editor would meet with a 
Roland, who would match his Oliver ; but didn't hesitate to publish 
these communications, even though some of them were caustic. An 
opponent ventured into doggerel to this effect : 

Then Weir and his d — d Chronicle 
May go to Texas or to Hell. 

Mr. W. had a deep bass voice — which would have called for a 
rasp to smooth it down, while his daughter. Miss Kitty, sang re- 
markably sweet. Mr. W. was a great temperance man, and at- 
tended the meetings of the "Total Abstinence Society" regularly. 
They adopted the plan of having certain speakers, and after these 
"regulars" had finished, volunteers could ventilate themselves, while 
the officials would pass through the room — Carolina Hall — and 
obtain signatures to the pledge. The subject of a choir was dis- 
cussed several times, but no definite action was taken. One night. 


(luring a lull in the proceedings, a loud voice, aided by a pretty 
sounding soprano, "Oh, Come, Come, Away," etc., was heard. The 
choir was organized before the next meeting. This youngster was 
invited to join the choir, but without practice; he made only one 
appearance — was never asked to come again. 

Drew the Line at Unnecessary Articles. 

Mr. O. Z. Bates was very methodical in all his actions. At 12 
o'clock he would go to dinner, and some of his neighbors declared 
that they could tell midday better through Mr. Bates than by rt- 
ferring to the clock. He made it a point to give credit to any indi- 
vidual who showed a disposition to work and meet his obligations, 
but surprised one of his debtors on one occasion. Christmas was 
approaching, and the man was having an order put up. He men- 
tioned nutmegs. "Can't have that," exclaimed Mr. Bates ; "I prom- 
ised to furnish you with necessary supplies ; nutmegs are not neces- 
sary." The nonplussed countryman explained that he only wanted 
flavoring for his Christmas Cake. "No," said the grocer; "I won't 
credit you for such useless articles, but Til give you enough to flavor 
vour cake." This he did. 

Woe-betide the individual who attempted to inquire into his 
affairs, or to question any of his proceedings — they would get more 
than they bargained for. "Well," was his favorite expression — a 
sort of starter for any question that he felt disposed to talk about. 
Mr. Bates filled the position of Warden of the town for several 
terms; he was also Treasurer of Elmwood Cemetery for a number 
of years. He was truly an honest man — acting on the "square," 
in all of his undertakings. Two of his boys served through the war. 
Ben kept his old uniform, and would proudly show several bullet- 
holes in the garments. He soon followed his father to the grave. 

Fell From Grace — Havis Gladden. 

Rev. Manning Brown, an earnest and successful evangelist (who 
died several years ago in the lunatic asylum, from an overworked 
brain and religious excitement), was doing very efficient work in 
Columbia and elsewhere. Among his converts was Mr. Havis Glad- 
den (a brother of the gallant General), a firm believer in the adage, 
"Have all the amusement you can in this world." Mr. G. kept up 
well for several months ; he would talk earnestly on religion, and for 
the time avoided "stimulants." There came an unusually cold spell, 
and Fisher's Pond (then a respectably-sized body of water) was 
frozen over. A number of individuals went down to try their luck 


at sliding, and a few to exhibit their skill in skating. A party of 
friends met Mr. G. and invited him to join them. He willingly 
consented. On passing "Johnny Stork's" comfortable little saloon, 
it was proposed to go in and partake of a hot punch. The proposi- 
tion was acceded to, and, of course, several drinks followed — ^the 
hot spirits and the nipping weather having a bad effect on Mr. G., 
causing him to forget his good resolutions. Arriving at the pond, 
the fun immediately commenced, and several slip-ups were re- 
corded — some even breaking through the thin ice near the middle. 
Mr. G. could not resist the temptation of a trial of the exciting 
sport, and ventured on the ice, carefully at first; but, gaining con- 
fidence, he made a strike-out, his feet flew from under him, down he 
came, and struck his head and the back of his neck on the unvield- 
ing ice. As soon as he recovered from the effects of the jar, he 
raised himself to a half-sitting position, and slowly muttered, 
"Haven't I played the devil; fell from grace and broke my d — d 
neck." He never fully recovered from the effects of the fall. 

Not Such Seats as These, 

Many old residents will remember Mrs. Peckham {nee Beard), 
a former resident of Columbia, who would "touch the beam at 300 
pounds." On the occasion of a trip to the flowery land many years 
ago, as she was getting in the stage to go from Micanopy to Alli- 
gator, one of the passengers was Hon. Dixon H. Lewis, member of 
Congress from Alabama, who weighed nearly 450 pounds (when he 
attempted to take his place among the nation's law-makers, it was 
found that no chair would hold him, so one had to be built expressly 
for his use) ; some one called out, "Seats for nine." "But not such 
seats as these," replied Mrs. P., looking at Mr. Lewis pleasantly. 
Three to a seat was the stage allowance. 

Wouldn't Stand Him Off. 

Mr. John O'Hanlon was a "sport" of the old style. He owned a 
livery stable, was a great lover of horses, would bet on anything, 
and was hard to beat in a horse trade. One day he was riding 
slowly along Main street on his favorite mare, and a little loaded 
spiritually. A friend hailed him, with an inquiry as to the price 
of the animal he bestrode. "$275," was the prompt answer. "I'll 
give you $75," replied the inquirer, in a bantering tone.. "She's 
yours," said Mr. O'H. ; "I never let $200 stand me off in a horse 
trade," as he threw his leg over the saddle. "Three fingers" settled 
the matter satisfactorily. 




Necessary to Hold Up His Trousers. 

Pat Leonard, a gallant Irishman, served faithfully in the Mexican 
war, and was severely wounded. In one of the battles — Contreras, 
I believe — several flag-carriers were shot down, and finally the staff 
was broken short off, and the flag partially torn away. Pat seized 
the colors, tied them around his waist, and carried them in that 
position through the fight. He was wounded severely in the hip, 
which caused him to limp for the rest of his days. He died on 
Sullivan's Island, and his remains were interred in the sand there. 
At a reception, barbecue and presentation to the returned Mexican 
volunteers on the campus of the South Carolina College, John S. 
Preston, Esq., was the orator of the day. Many individuals were 
called upon and made short responses, Pat Leonard among them. 
Pat got up, smiling pleasantly as he looked around upon the immense 
assemblage gathered to do them honor; then picking up Mr. Pres- 
ton's hat, which stood near, said: "My friends, Fm not much on 
speaking; but I'll tell you what I'll do — I'll hold the hat of the finest 
gentleman and the best speaker in South Carolina, while he talks 
for me a little." He was loudly applauded and Mr. Preston re- 
sponded very aptly, during which he referred in complimentary and 
deserving words to the bravery of the Irishman, and the tying the 
colors around his waist as a last resort. "Whist, your Honor," was 
the reply of the bashful Irishman to this statement : "it was to hold 
up my breeches." Which, of course, brought thunders of applause, 
and Pat disappeared. 

Swords Not Received. 

It was at this reception that swords with silver scabbards were 
to be presented to the officers of the regiment, while the privates 
were to receive silver medals. The privates obtained their medals, 
but the officers, with the exception of four (Major Moye, of Chester, 
being one), never received their swords. The four referred to were 
obtained from Messrs. Glaze & Radcliffe to be used for presentation 
purposes; but the last four to receive the swords construed lite- 
rally and retained possession. The jewelers were paid for the four 
presentation weapons ; but as to the others, I never could get at the 
reason of the failure to comply with the Act of the Legislature. 

Gen. Shields' Sword with Gold Scabbard. 
The handsome blade, with a gold scabbard, presented by this State 


to Gen. Shields, in whose brigade the Palmetto Regiment fought 
gallantly in the war with Mexico, is exhibited in its handsome case 
in the government museum in Washington. Gen. Shields compli- 
mented them highly for their bravery — particularly the storming of 
the Castle of Chapultepec. Some of the soldiers who fought under 
Gen. S. in Mexico, fought against him in the "War Between the 
States," and it is said the General greatly regretted it. Gen. S. was 
shot through the body in one of the Mexican battles, but was satis- 
factorily attended by a Mexican surgeon. 

'Who Kapes the KayesV 

A good-natured Irishman, "Sugaroo" Kelly, was an excellent 
soldier in Mexico unless he got hold of pulque. He was captured 
by the Mexicans, but his eccentric actions caused them to think he 
was crazy and they released him. On his return to Columbia, at 
the close of the hostilities, he met with a warm reception, went to 
his home and attempted to make up for lost time, but it was a vain 
effort. His regular rig was a blue suit of ancient style, but his hat 
was a curiosity — it certainly belonged to a long past age. "Sug." 
rode a mule that evidently knew how to balance his master, as the 
old man was never landed on the ground. Mr. D. Caldwell had 
given him an invitation to stop at his hotel whenever he was in 
town — for really *'Sug." was a drawing card ; his witty sayings were 
proverbial and a crowd was generally on hand when he was known 
to be there. He misbehaved in the dining roorn one day, Mr. C. 
thought, and he quietly walked the offender out. *'Sug." returned, 
closed the door between the dining room and the office, but without 
putting down the bolt, turned and pocketed the key, then going 
around by an open window on the north side of the building he 
shook the key, and called out, "Mr. Davis Caldwell, you're a very 
foine man, but Td like to know who kapes the kayes?" mounted his 
mule and started for home — never appearing in Columbia again, as 
he was carried off by fever in a few days. 

Consumption Cured — Dr, Barkuloo. 

A young man, named Barkuloo, apparently far gone in consump- 
tion, volunteered in Capt. Wm. D. DeSaussure's company to help 
clean out the Mexicans. Objection was made to receiving the deli- 
cate man, but Capt. D. said the climate might benefit him, and he 
would make him his clerk. Mr. B. shouldered his musket several 
times, and performed his duty on the field of battle. At Churubusco, 
he was struck in the chest with a copper shot and severely wounded. 


A captured Mexican surgeon undertook to look after the wounded 
man. Pus exuded from the wound in the chest — ^the breast-bone 
was stove in — and the surgeon thought he must have been wounded 
the day before and mortification had set in ; but on examination of 
the parts found the lungs in bad condition. The wound was at 
once looked after, the lung cleaned thoroughly, necessary ointment 
applied, and in a few weeks the soldier was a well man. He re- 
turned to Columbia, married a daughter of Mr. Stephen DeBruhl. 
formed a copartnership in the drug business with Dr. Boatwright, 
and remained here until the death of his wife, when he located in 
Macon, Ga., and lived in his Georgia home for a number of years. 

Mexican War Survivors — Who will Get the Vase? 

The possession of the famous Jackson silver vase will, doubtless, 
soon be decided. Gen. Andrew Jackson presented a gold snuff box to 
the State of New York, to be awarded to the soldier from that State 
who should prove to be the bravest man in a war with any foreign 
power; while to the State of South Carolina (his place of birth) 
was awarded a handsome silver vase, with similar directions. The 
vase was left in the hands of Capt. W. B. Stanley for a number of 
years. Finally, at a meeting of the Mexican veterans, it was decided 
to put the vase in charge of the State officials, to be held temporarily, 
then turned over to the last survivor, as an heir-loom. There are 
but few of the vets. left. Major J. D. Blanding, of Sumter; Mr. 
Orlando Levy, of Charleston, and Mr. Spencer Percival, of Rich- 
land, are all that I can hear of. 

From Columbia, S, C, to Savannah, Ga. 

We are all delighted at the success of our steamboat line to 
Georgetown. It is not known by many of our citizens, that up to 
fifty years ago we had regular communication between Columbia and 
Charleston, and in an emergency the run could be extended to Sa- 
vannah, Ga. Capt. B. T. Elmore, with his company of one hundred 
men, left t'his town in 1836, on the steamer James S. Boatwright, and 
went through to that favored Georgia city. The soldiers volunteered 
for three months service to help clean out Oceola, Billy Bowlegs and 
their Seminole braves. Oceola was captured through an improper 
use of the flag of truce, carried to Fort Moultrie and there impris- 
oned, where he starved himself to death, and the slab over his grave 
is still to be seen outside the walls of the fort, with the simple in- 
scription, "Oceola, Chief and Warrior." There are none of the sur- 
vivors of the Florida campaign left. 



Three Murderers Hanged at Once, 

My first recollection of the terrible was the hanging of three 
negroes, belonging to Col. John Singleton, for the murder of the 
overseer, McCaskill. Colored people could go anywhere at that 
time, when accompanied by a white child, and as there were several 
young women servants at Mrs. Hillegas', where we boarded, I was 
much sought after — my mother never dreamed of where I was 
often carried. On the occasion above referred to, one of them 
offered to take me, and I immediately agreed. The place of execution 
was an open lot on the southwest corner of Gervais and Lincoln 
streets. The next affair of the kind was the execution of a white 
man, named Adams, for the brutal murder of a Mrs. McEvoy, an 
illicit liquor seller, on Boundary street, near Elmwood avenue. 

Sanders Died "Game" 

I have seen a good many individuals depart by the "rope route," 
but Arthur Sanders, a young soldier, said to be from Virginia, who 
killed the notorious "Dutch Rose," on southwest corner of Gates 
and Lady streets, displayed more "nerve" than I have ever witnessed. 
His victim was choked, but lingered several days, unable to articu- 
late. The other females in the house gave a description of the sus- 
pected party, and he was traced to and captured in Montgomery, 
Ala., while attempting to run the blockade to New Orleans. It is 
not believed that Sanders intended murder, but only robbery, as it 
was known that "Dutch" had valuable jewelry, and it was thought 
that she had money. On arriving at the place of execution (the 
open square south of the South Carolina College, now used as base- 
ball grounds), the only request that the condemned man made was 
for Sheriff Dent to delay the execution until the last minute possible, 
during which time he sat in the carriage chatting pleasantly with 
the officers and newspaper men — who did not give an account of the 
execution, by special request, neither before nor after the event. 
Not so particular now-a-days. The only evidence of any special 
interest was the repeated turning of the head in the direction of the 
Governor's residence, as he knew that an appeal numerously signed 
had been presented for Executive clemency. But Gov. M. L. Bon- 
ham paid no attention to the paper, and the law properly took its 
course. Sanders walked up the steps to the gallows with a priest 
on either side, but the slight physical aid they furnished seemed 


unneeded. As the black cap was drawn over his face, he deliberately 
said, "Lord Jesus, receive my soul,'* and died without apparent 
movement. It was a terribly hot day, and several of Capt. R. D. 
Senn's men were overcome by the heat. Before the trial and con- 
viction, Sanders implicated several men, but afterwards withdrew 
all these charges. One of the parties, Arthur Dabney, was so 
alarmed that he hurriedly went to Virginia. He reached Petersburg 
Wednesday evening, went to the front at once, and was killed next 
day by the premature discharge of a gun. And thus was the begin- 
ning of a series of tragedies which followed this robbing event. 

Sanders' body was carried to St. Peter's Catholic Church, where 
it remained until the next day — the coffin open and several "Sisters" 
in attendance, and visited by hundreds of the curious. It was then 
deposited in the church-yard adjacent, where it remained undis- 
turbed for twenty-four hours. A foolish report was circulated to 
the effect that Sanders was not dead, and a committee of prominent 
citizens waited upon the Governor and requested him to issue an 
order for the remains to be disinterred, which was done, and on 
Sunday morning, against the earnest protest of the church officials, 
the grave was opened and the body examined. There was no doubt 
but that the criminal was dead. The head was terribly swollen and 
the face almost black, but the identification was satisfactory. 

Wholesale Robbery Attempted, 

Circumstances connected with the robbery and murder of "Dutch 
Rose" are known to a few parties still living, but they are of such 
a nature, so extended and so beyond ordinary belief, that they would 
form a story of themselves, and would be termed exaggerations. 
Robbery wholesale in its character was to have been carried out, but 
somebody "squealed," and most of the parties escaped harm at the 
time. All of those implicated came to untimely ends — the innocent 
as well as the guilty. Ned Beraghi was known to carry on his per- 
son a considerable amount in specie ; but he received a hint, and "hid 
out," and so foiled the would-be robbers. Ned was afterwards 
killed in his saloon, northeast corner of Lady and Assembly streets. 
Two were killed in Columbia. 

Knife and Cage Rake, 

A bloody affair occurred one night at a menagerie where the 
Nunnery now stands. The theatre building stood nearly a hundred 
feet from Plain street, and the authorities allowed a temporary use 
of a part of the street. An Irishman, named Lynch, was killed 


within a few feet of where I sat with my colored protector. It 
seems that two young men of good families had left their seats for 
a short time, and Lynch sat down in one of the vacant places. When 
the parties returned, the seat was claimed and refused, when words 
occurred and Lynch knocked them both down. As soon as they 
regained their feet, one of them picked up a cage-rake and struck 
the unfortunate man in the head with it, while the other stabbed 
him with a knife. I remember the terror of the crowd, the roaring 
of the animals, excited by the smell of blood, and the speedy exit 
of all parties from the tent. I was mounted on the shoulders of 
some one, who was afraid I would be trampled upon in the wild 
rush for a place of safety — some foolish creature shouting that "the 
lion had got out." The coroner^s jury rendered a verdict that either 
of the w^ounds would have caused death. One of the murderers got 
away and has never been brought to trial, but the other was ac- 
quitted. Col. Wm. C. Preston defended him, and in one of his 
magnificent perorations, waving his arms above his head, knocked 
his wig off ; it was picked up immediately ancj stuck back again, but 
"hind part before." There did not seem to be a titter in the audi- 
ence — ^they were so fearful that it might attract the attention of the 
gifted orator, and cause a break in his wonderful argument. D. J. 
McCord, Esq., as the speaker sat down, said, "William, your wig 
is awry." "Thank you," was the quiet reply, and the covering was 
properly adjusted. 

Although acquitted, the conscience of the murderer troubled him, 
and it is said that he never passed an entire night in bed, but wan- 
dered restlessly about the house — ^getting the most of his necessary 
sleep after daylight. I know of other similar cases. The poor 
mother was delighted at her son's release ; but is credited with the 
frequent use of the quotation : "The mother of the murdered sleepeth, 
but the mother of the murderer sleepeth not." 

Governor Out of Reach. 

A man under the influence of liquor refused to leave a saloon, 
and the police were called in to put him out, or lock him up if he 
resisted. He attempted to defend himself and threatened to kill his 
would-be arresters. The officers persisted and he shot and killed 
one of them, Tom Cross. At the trial, it was charged that the kill- 
ing of Cross was on account of an old grudge. The prisoner was 
convicted and sentenced to be hung. Dr. Wm. Reynolds, an old 
citizen and a level-headed man, had his doubts as to the justice of 
the sentence, and in pursuing his investigations, was assured by 
5 — M 


Policeman Starling that he did not believe the prisoner intended to 
shoot Cross ; that he had powder marks on his face, which showed 
conclusively to his mind that he only meant to resist what he thought 
was an unjust arrest. Dr. R. made a thorough and rapid investiga- 
tion into the circumstances, and feeling satisfied that an unjust pun- 
ishment was to be inflicted, rushed to the Governor's office to lay 
the matter before his Excellency; but Gov. R. F. W. Allston had 
gone to his plantation, sixteen miles from Georgetown, and the exe- 
cution was to be the next day. The South Carolina Railroad au- 
thorities offered to furnish a fast train to Charleston, but it would 
have been impossible to reach Georgetown by steamboat and then 
get over the sixteen miles to the Governor's plantation. The pri- 
soner was hanged the next day, and a sensational scene occurred ; the 
rope broke, and the poor fellow fell to the ground, breaking his back 
by striking the supporting bar ; he was lifted up, only feebly resist- 
ing, and swung off again — this time successfully. The screams and 
groans of the colored witnesses were terrible to hear. Gov. Allston 
on his return was maidje acquainted with the circumstances, and inti- 
mated that he would certainly have interfered with the carrying 
out of the execution. He further declared that he would never 
again absent himself from the Executive office, or be out of reach 
of communication. Previous to Radical reign, the Governor could 
not leave the State without permission of the Legislature. Governor 
A. was within the borders of the State, but a messenger could not 
have reached him under twelve or fourteen hours. How railroads 
and telegraph wires have annihilated time. 

Murder, Not Suicide. 

About twenty-five years ago, the community was horrified at the 
reported suicide of a young man, son of an old and highly-respected 
citizen. He had been seen the night before about twelve o'clock in 
apparent good spirits. The next morning, a laborer going to work 
at an early hour, found the body on the side of the path near the 
river. The body was lying on the left side, and a pistol, with one 
barrel discharged, held in the right hand. An inquest was held, 
the body was examined and a bullet through the brain was found 
to be the cause of death. The verdict of the jury was suicide. A 
skillful detective, who was engaged in State service, took an interest 
in the affair, and made inquiries into the matter. He found that 
there were no powder-burns on hair or face, and the range of the 
bullet showed that the weapon could not have been held in such a 
wav as to inflict such a wound without powder-burns ; that a person 


instantly killed would fall flat, the muscles relaxing, and it would 
be physically impossible to retain the position in which the body was 
found. The doctor was informed of the circumstances, and was so 
impressed with the proof which the detective advanced, that he ex- 
claimed, "The d — d rascal is right ; Til have the jury recalled and a 
proper verdict rendered ; I did nothing but report the range of the 
bullet." The doctor and the detective were at "daggers' points," 
but that didn't prevent the good soul listening to reason. The family 
objected to reopening the matter. The detective went on a quiet 
hunt, and secured evidence to prove conclusively that the unfortu- 
nate young man had been treacherously shot by a soldier. 

Was it Providential Punishment? 

Bryant Bailey, a sporting man, who also kept a livery stable on the 
west side Sumter, near Blanding street, while on his way home, a 
mile or two in the country, on the Smith's Branch road, was mur- 
dered one night in 1872. It was known that he had won a consider- 
able sum of money at cards that night, and he was believed to have 
it on his person. When the body was examined, the next day, it 
was discovered that his watch and whatever money he had in pos- 
session, had disappeared. His waiting man, Bob Cooper, was sus- 
pected of the crime, and was tried but acquitted. Some time after- 
wards Bob was stricken with paralysis, and could get along with the 
greatest difficulty. One of his colored friends, Nancy Pickett, took 
care of him until his death. Bob used to be a very dressy man — a 
regular dude. Some of the colored people gravely shook their heads, 
and said it was Bailey bewitching him. The matter was brought 
up recently, through some inquiries .relative to another party with 
a similar name. 

Forced Into a Duel. 

During the Adams-Preston political campaign, in 1854, Dr. Ray, 
a wealthy physician and planter residing in the "Fork," got involved 
with Mr. Peter Gaffney, a slave owner and planter, but a man below 
him in social standing, who seemed disposed under any circumstances 
to force Dr. R. to meet him on the duelling field. The doctor could 
not get out of the affair honorably, as he conceived, so he accepted 
the challenge. The place selected was about seventeen miles below 
Columbia, on the left hand side of the McCord's Ferry road. The 
antagonists were promptly on hand, with their friends, and were 
soon placed in position. At the word, both parties fired. Dr. R.'s 
bullet cutting Mr. G.'s shoulder slightly, while his went wide of its 
intended mark. Dr. R.'s second then inquired if the other party 


was satisfied. "No," was the reply of Mr. G. "I came here to fight, 
and, by God, I'm going to fight." The weapons were reloaded, the 
combatants took their places and the discharges seemed simultane- 
ous, although it is claimed that Mr. G.'s weapon missed fire ; and he 
fell dead — shot through the heart. It was one of the most exciting 
political contests which ever occurred in Richland District. The 
nearest approach to it being the "Bank" and "Anti" of six years 
before, when the slogan was : 

There's the Bank discussion — 
Anti's are done brown. 

Fraudulent and Fatal Building. 

"Parker Block," as it is called, on the west side of Main street, 
near Gervais, is one of the most famous, or »;i famous buildings in the 
cit}'. It was intended to call it "Parker's Hall;" but an unrecon- 
structed citizen said in the hearing of the thieving State Treasurer, 
that it would be properly named, provided the latter word was spelt 
haul. Parker changed his mind. It has been used for a variety 
of purposes — ^theatre, gambling house, barroom, with ten-pin alley 
and billiard table accompaniments. It was occupied several years 
by the Agricultural Commissioner. It finally got out of the hands 
of the State through manipulation of the famous Blue Ridge scrip, 
which the United States Supreme Court finally pronounced fraudu- 
lent. Immorality and crime of nearly ever}' kind was practiced 
there at diflferent times. Tom Dent was killed in a difficultv ; Run- 
kle, a young limb of the law from the North suicided; and portly 
George Hall (son of one of Columbia's first merchants of lang 
s}*ne) fell down the front steps and literally broke his neck. 

The great reformer, B. R. Tillman, Esq., first thoroughly venti- 
lated himself in Parker's Hall before a Columbia audience. The 
upper portion of the building is now used for hotel purposes. Mos- 
quitoes neyer trouble guests, because the ceilings are so lofty that 
the insects die before reaching feeding points. 

Col. Cash, the Irrepressible. 

Col, E. B. C. Cash, of Cash's Depot, Marion County, belonged to 
the school of irrepressibles. He was Colonel of a regiment from 
that section, and showed in battle that he was "every inch a man," 
but became ver}- unpopular with his men. At the reorganization and 
election of officers, the Colonel was defeateil. WTien he heard of the 
turn affairs had taken, he walked out, deliberately took off his coat, 
threw it on the ground, and challenged every man in the regriment 
to a fight, with fists or pistols. His **numerous" challenge was not 


accepted, and the ex-Colonel quieted down and went home. Time 
passed, and the unfortunate duel with Col. Shannon, of Camden, 
occurred, in which the latter gentleman was killed. Col. C. was 
tried for the offence, but acquitted. His son, Bogan, while under 
the influence of liquor, killed a policeman in Cheraw, and fled. 
It was finally discovered that he was on his father's premises. For 
some reason, the Governor ordered a detachment of men from Co- 
lumbia to arrest the criminal. The squad went down, surrounded 
Col. Cash's house, placed the Colonel under arrest, and prosecuted 
their search for Bogan, who was located in the barn. When called 
upon to surrender, he refused, and, it is said, fired upon them, when 
he was promptly shot dead. Old man Cash did not long survive his 
accumulated troubles. 

''The Home'' and ''The Pulaski 


In 1838, occurred the twin disaster, loss off Cape Hatteras, North 
Carolina, of "The Home," from New York to Charleston, and "The 
Pulaski/' from the former port to Savannah, Georgia. On "The 
Home'* were several Columbians — Capt. Davie Toms, a retired sea 
captain; Mr. James Anderson, a clothing merchant; Prof. Julius 
Nott (of the South Carolina College) and his wife, and several 
others. I had reason to remember the loss of "The Home," as Capt. 
Toms had promised to bring me a handsome present from New 
York — ^he was indignant at the insignificant souvenir which a fellow- 
boarder had brought me from a trip to that then distant metropolis — 
a French bon-bon ( I have the picture in a scrap-book still ) . It was 
the loss of "The Pulaski" that caused the famous trial in Savannah, 
Ga., as to which of two parties — a male and a female — had first 
yielded up their lives, the question involved being a large amount 
of property, including slaves. It used to be currently reported that 
Senator Charles Summer was one of the lucky heirs, that he sold 
the negroes, pocketed the money, and became a rabid Black Repub- 
lican. His friends deny this, and I have been unable to corroborate 
the report. After considerable argument, it was decided that the 
woman, being the weaker, had first expired. This decision was used 
in the famous Fair automobile tragedy in Paris a few years ago. 
The report as to Charles Summer occurred from a similarity of 
names of some of the parties. 

The "Elephant's Loose," 

Such was the exciting information communicated by a courier, 
who reached Columbia from Rabb's Mill (now Messer's) one day 


during the forties. Robinson's Circus was on the way from Cam- 
den, when Romeo, the big elephant, refused to cross a bridge in that 
neighborhood, and when prodded by his keeper, killed the man and 
the horse he bestrode, and rushed excitedly away, trumpeting loudly. 
Couriers were sent off in different directions to warn the people. 
The DeKalb Rifles, of Camden, were notified, and the members of 
the company decided to go on a hunt for such big game. By the 
time they arrived, Romeo had quieted down somewhat, but had taken 
up a position in the pond, and the circus people could do nothing 
with him — were afraid to irritate him to too great an extent, as he 
was a powerful beast. Mr. Robinson lost patience, and told the 
Riflemen to "Kill the d — d brute: shoot his eves out first." Thev 
opened fire on him, and as soon as he felt the bullets, he rushed for 
the bank, but several well-directed shots brought him down just as 
he got his feet on solid ground, when he fell down and began 
trumpeting vigorously (his sign of subjugation), but the firing was 
kept up until he was killed. Then the question arose as to what 
to do with the carcass. It was finally decided to throw earth over 
it, and a lot of men went to work with spades and shovels, and raised 
a small mountain over the remains. The dead man and horse were 
buried, the circus procession moved on, and the elephant-hunters 
returned to Camden. 

All Joined to Do Honor. 

Gregg's Hall, located on the southwest corner of Taylor and Main 
streets, was destroyed by what is believed to be an incendiary fire. 
A falling wall in the one-story part of the building (where the fire 
originated) killed two young men: Dannie' Carrington and Phineas 
Frazee Squier, besides disabling ten or twelve others (firemen and 
volunteers), two of whom (Frank Beckham and Will Evans) never 
recovered from the effects. Tuesday, the day of the funerals, there 
was a general suspension of business, and it appeared as if the entire 
community walked in the procession. Squier was interred in the 
Presbyterian Church-yard, and afterwards the procession reformed 
and marched in the rain to Trinitv, where the service for the dead 
was performed by the Rev. P. J. Shand — the rain falling on his 
bared venerable head. I noticed in the procession, walking arm- 
in-arm, Father J. J. O'Connell, of the Catholic Church, and Mr. 
Jacob Levin, acting Rabbi for the Israelites. They accidentally 
came together, and were good friends ever after. The supposed 
incendiary was not prosecuted, but only got two-thirds of his insu- 
rance claim. 


Two Sons Come to Untimely Ends. 

Mrs. Sarah Bynum, a motherly widow, who was beloved by every- 
body, maintained herself and two daughters by carrying on a small 
millinery establishment on the west side of Main street, above Wal- 
nut (now Blanding), for a number of years prior to 1845. She was 
the mother of two talented sons, members of the legal profession, 
who bid fair to make their marks in the world; but both came to 
untimely ends. Turner Bynum, an earnest Nullifier, was killed in 
a duel by B. F. Perry, Esq. (afterwards Provisional Governor), a 
sturdy Union man, who maintained his opposition to secession up to 
and throughout the "Civil War"-^in fact, came near losing his life 
on account of the persistent advocacy of his principles. The duel 
was fought on Savannah River, in old Pendleton District, and young 
Bynum 's remains were interred in the grave-yard attached to the 
famous "Old Stone Church.'' Alfred Bynum removed to Texas 
soon after the death of his brother, took part in the war for the 
independence of that State, was captured by the Mexicans, and 
massacred with a number of other prisoners at Golaid, by the orders 
of the brutal Mexican General, Santa Anna. Several descendants 
of good old Mrs. Bynum reside in Columbia. 

The Four McKcnsie Boys. 

Mr. and Mrs. John McKenzie, well known residents of Columbia 
for fifty years, were the parents of eleven children — seven girls and 
four bovs ; but the familv name will be extinct with the demise of 
the living members. All the boys came to their ends by accident 
or unnatural means — the one, while an infant, fell from the nurse's 
arms, and was killed; John died from the effects of an injury re- 
ceived in jumping over posts which formerly stood in front of the 
City Hall and Jail ; George lost his right arm at South Mountain, 
wrote a letter home with his left hand ten days afterwards, but died 
eventually ; Frank was killed in a difficulty with a soldier connected 
with the garrison here. 

Tzvo White Men Hanged for Killing a Negro, 

It has often been asserted that a white man had never been exe- 
cuted in South Carolina for killing a negro. This is a mistake, in 
one instance at least, and I am satisfied there are others. Motley 
and Blackledge, professional hunters of runaway negroes, paid the 
death penalty in Colleton District for that crime. It was clearly 
proven that they deliberately tortured their victim to death, and 
were tried and convicted. Every effort possible was made by their 


numerous relatives and friends to get them off, but Gov. John L. 
Manning was firm in his determination that justice should be done. 
Threats of rescue had been made, and his Excellency ordered a 
heavy guard to be in attendance, and no trouble occurred. A com- 
pany of cavalry went up from Charleston overland, while an infantry 
force proceeded by boat as near as possible to the place of execu- 
tion, at Walterboro. The only serious result was the death of 
one of the soldiers from a cold contracted on the trip. The affair 
was impressed upon me by the fact that the bodies of the murderers 
were brought through Columbia on the way to Kershaw, where they 
had resided, for interment. The stench was so perceptible that pass- 
ing individuals hurried from the vicinity. 

Unavailing Search for Bodies. 

Soon after the completion of the Greenville and Columbia Rail- 
road, a heavy freshet washed away the track almost completely be- 
tween Columbia and Alston. Wm. Spencer Brown, Esq., the engi- 
neer who constructed the road, and young Eddie McCollum, were 
drowned by a boat getting upset, while superintending repairs. The 
people turned out by hundreds to search for the bodies, and it -was 
kept up night and day for fully a week. Parties would go in boats 
up the river, while others went along the banks, torches being used 
in profusion, but to no avail. The bodies had each got caught in the 
debris, and were not recovered until the waters had receded. It was 
a strange sight, which those who witnessed will never forget — the 
moving lights and shouts were weird-like. Mr. Brown lost his life 
through a desire that the railroad should be so located that passen- 
gers should enjoy the beautiful river scenery, instead of adopting the 
route afterwards followed by the Columbia, New^berry and Lau- 
rens Railroad. 

Foiled the Grave Robbers, 

James Patterson, a highly respected colored carpenter, who was 
killed by a fall from the roof of the house of Mr. Daniel Crawford, 
northeast corner of Lumber and Gates streets (the first house to be 
erected on the old parade ground), was buried in the much-used 
place of sepulture, and the family determined to prevent the body 
being carried off. They had a grave twelve feet square dug and of 
the same depth. A quantity of shavings were then put over the 
coffin, then a layer of earth ; more shavings, and so on to the top. 
The robbing implements could not be forced through the shavings, 
and the dead body was not disturbed. His dutiful daughter, Mary 
Williams, secured his tomb-stone and keeps it in her house. 



Hozi' They Became Free Men. 

The death of xA^ndrew Wallace, a highly respected and intelligent 
colored bricklayer, about a year ago, brings to mind some singular 
circumstances. A young Irishman, John Wallace, was the father 
by a colored woman whom he owned of three sons — Andrew, George 
and James. The white parent died in 1850, and his remains are 
in St. Peter's Church-yard. He had been educated for the priest- 
hood, but as far as I can understand, had either never assumed 
priestly garments or had been silenced. At his death he left the 
mother and three children free by his will ; but through some techni- 
cality the officials of St. Peter's entered suit and set aside the will. 
The boys had been advised by Mr. Isaac Coleman to practice and 
become efficient musicians, and this they promptly and successfully 
proceeded to do. Andrew learnt bricklaying; George became 
a barber, and James a painter. At Coleman's suggestion they 
would get permission from the Intendant to visit neighboring towns 
and villages — ostensibly to furnish music for balls and parties. Some 
of these professional calls were genuine, but others imaginary. Two 
days, three and four days were sometimes applied for, and the neces- 
sary passes willingly given. In the meantime, the mother had died. 
A call to Camden for four days extended to 1867, when Andrew 
and the family he had raised in Toronto, Canada, put in an appear- 
ance, where they have since remained. Andrew's fiance, the daughter 
of a highly respected colored carpenter, Lee, followed him to 
Canada. George became an officer in the British army, but I know 
nothing of James. Coleman was an unusually intelligent man, 
and during the sessions of the Legislature acted as reporter for the 
Charleston Courier, and had the credit of writing occasionally for 
the paper on different subjects. It got too warm for Coleman after 
the escape of the Wallace boys, and he disappeared between two 
days. His sons by a colored woman had been sent North to be 
educated. They both entered the army, and I learn were killed — 
the mother certainly obtained a pension for one of them. Emma 
Coleman and her daughter were respected by all who knew them — 
were charitable and willing nurses in sickness, giving their services 
without compensation. Maria, the daughter, married Charles Wil- 
der, our former colored Postmaster. Coleman returned to his old 
home during Radical days, served as Magistrate for a time, became 
blind, and soon afterwards died at a good old age. Wilder and his 


family removed to Washington City, remained several years, but 
finally returned to Columbia, where they died. 

Bull-Penning — Tissue Ballots. 

Elections are carried in a variety of ways. The popularity of the 
individuals running for office, or the amount of money one or the 
other may have, are powerful incentives. The bull-penning plan 
of fifty years ago was often used effectively. Purchasable or drink- 
-able "independents" were secured and kept in buildings, properly 
cared for and watched over until election day, when they were 
brought out, marched in procession to the polling places, the votes 
deposited, and then the independent voters scattered. Sometimes, 
but not often, there would be a bolt, or the parties would sneak off, 
but it was a dangerous proceeding. During the famous Preston- 
Adams campaign (which it was said cost Col. John S. Preston fully 
$35,000, and Gen. James H. Adams about half that sum), all sorts 
of schemes were tried. Col. P. objected to the indiscriminate use 
of liquor, and introduced corn-meal and bacon, which seemed to 
work admirably — but it had its disadvantages : A well-known gentle- 
man, who was careless in his dress, hearing that Col. P. was at 
"headquarters," called to see him; and was informed that he had 
just left, but his bacon and meal was all right, at the same time hand- 
ing over packages of the necessaries mentioned. The party "pock- 
eted the affront," took the provisions, and turned them over to a 
needy family in the neighborhood. 

Then the ballot boxes had the bottoms neatly screwed on, so that 
they could be easily opened — although the tops would be sealed all 
right. Then the tissue ballots were tried very effectively — ^a Massa- 
chusetts idea. The "little jokers" were printed on onion-skin paper, 
thirty or forty, in some instances, folded up in a properly printed 
ticket and dropped in the receptacle. When the ballots were 
counted, the numbers did not tally ; so all were put back, the proper 
number drawn out indiscriminately, and the others destroyed. Of 
course, the individual doing the drawing (usually a small boy) was 
instructed as to the difference between the onion-skins and the others, 
and drew the thin ones. "Necessity is the mother of invention," as 
the boy said when he used his hat to boil potatoes in : so all things are 
fair in love, law, war and elections ; besides, "necessity knows no 
law," and "desperate cases require desperate remedies," etc. After 
a deal of manipulation, the "primary" was resorted to : Sambo was 
successfully eliminated, and now things move along smoothly — "the 
gentleman in black" yielding quietly to the inevitable. 


Nat Pope's Pig, 

Mr. Nathaniel Pope, the veteran butcher, who resided in Butcher 
Town, to the north of Columbia, and lived to a good old age, had 
characteristics peculiarly his own ; he was liberal, kind-hearted and 
of a belligerent disposition, when imposed upon. He would occa- 
sionally get into scrapes, but his fists were his only weapons, and 
when the knock-out was over with, all ill-feeling seemed to have 
been forgotten. A party of Indians encamped in his neighborhood 
were thought to make raids on his pigs, but positive proof could 
not be obtained ; so Mr. P. broke out in rhyme, gave the suspected 
Indians a castigation, and at the same time touched up some delin- 
quents, in the meat line. We give the following extracts from his 
production, as his descendants and old friends would likely care to 
have it brought to their recollection: 

Nathaniel Pope has lost a pig. 

Like many a one before; 
But such a pig was never seen 

In Butcher Town, I'm sure. 
It had a tail, just where pigs' tails 

Most usually are found. 
Also a snout, with which sometimes 

He rooted up the ground; 
His little tail, like other pig's. 

Was hairy, round and black — 
Sometimes hung down between his legs. 

Sometimes curled on his back. 

And then after a hundred or more stanzas he touches up other 
meat-stealers — debtors, thusly : 

And many a loafer in the street 

Who struts and swells with pride. 
Owes for the very coat he wears. 

And the butcher's. bill beside. 
To all such worthy gentlemen 

Nathaniel Pope sends greeting: 
Unless you pay your butdier's bill. 

He'll stop you all from eating. 

He Carried It Too Far, 

Dick Waters was a famous chuck-a-luck and card manipulator — 
a fine looking and muscular man. His proposition to "chuck" play- 
ers was in a sing-song whine to the effect : 

All young men disposed to gamble, 
Chuckaluck's a game that's easy to handle; 
The more you put down less you take up, 
And that's the game they call chuckaluck. 

Dick generally wore a coat with brass buttons, and parties who 
watched closely caught on to his trick, and how he made such a 
success. He would put two dice in the box — sometimes only one — • 
holding the other with his bent little finger. The query was then 


propounded, "All down?" The box would be rattled against the 
buttons, giving the sound of three dice, while the sharp eyes caught 
whether high or low numbers were being played ; the dice held by 
the finger would turn to suit the numbers, and the "suckers" be 

Dick and a chum "put up a job," as they thought, on a blacksmith 
in New Orleans, which came very near being serious. Dick's idea 
was to cover himself with a kind of stain, which would wear off in 
a few weeks ; he was then sold as a slave, and when his natural color 
returned, make off. I suppose he must have been a blacksmith by 
trade, because it was said that his master was delighted with his 
skill, and willingly paid $1,000, which was asked — a low figure for 
a good workman. The owner evidently suspected something, for 
he had his new purchase chained to the anvil, and at night he was 
securely locked up. An attempt at escape was visited with such a 
severe whipping, that Dick -submitted quietly, worked energetically 
and prayed for the early wearing off of the dye. His friends finally 
succeeded in raising the necessary funds for his release, with an 
addition to the original cost, and he barely escaped trouble with 
the authorities, as interfering with slaves was a very serious affair. 

So-Called Historical Picture. 

During a visit to the Metropolitan Museum at Central Park, a 
year or two ago, I was forced to let off a little surplus bile, with 
reference to the so-called historical picture representing old "John 
Brown Being Led Out to Execution." The 'painting is well done, 
and the portraits of Brown and the Sheriff are excellent, but it rep- 
resents to the world a falsehood uncalled for. I was examining it, 
when, without thinking of parties behind me, who were evidently 
admiring the artistically executed representation of the preparations 
for the execution of this crazy fanatic, I said, in an undertone, "It 
is a burning shame that such a deliberate lie should be foisted upon 
the American people and the world at large." "What makes you 
say that?" put in a voice behind me. "Because, when a criminal 
is taken charge of by the officers, and is on his way to the place of 
execution, the crowd is kept back, while here negro women are reach- 
ing forward their babies to be kissed by the 'great emancipator;' 
and this notwithstanding the fact that lines of soldiers in inverted 
order extended from the jail, and closed in behind as the condemned 
man and the officers moved forward. There wasn't a colored person 
in sight; besides, such an exhibition would not have been allowed. 
I know what I am talking about. Furthermore, the soldiers form- 


ing the guard were Virginia volunteer companies, dressed in differ- 
ent styles of uniform ; while these are soldiers in the uniform of the 
United States, which was not adopted until several years after- 
wards. "Well, really," was the doubtful reply. "But what you say 
does sound reasonable, and the matter should be looked into," he 
finally added. 

By-the-way, Mr. William Lesher, a resident of Columbia, was 
killed on the spot where John Brown was hung. Lesher, Captains 
Pressley Brown, W. H. Griffith and a squad of men were captured 
in 1865 by the Federals. Their captors annoyed them in a variety 
of ways — an opprobrious epithet being applied to Lesher, who 
knocked his insulter down, but was shot dead immediately. The 
killing of the entire party was only prevented by the prompt inter- 
ference of the officers. It was a close call, Capt. Brown remarked, 
in speaking of the affair. 

Only a Pleasant Talk — Widely Separated. 

The handsome residence on the southeast corner of Lady and Bull 
streets (now the residence of Mr. Hudgins) was the scene of what 
was believed at the time to be an important gathering to discuss the 
condition of things in this section — a meeting between Gen. Canby, 
Commandant of this Department, Gov. Worth, of North Carolina, 
and Gov. Orr, of South Carolina. Col. L. D. Childs was present by 
invitation, as was also this individual, as a representative of the 
press, in case it was deemed advisable to give to the public the result 
of the conference. The Governors explained the condition of things 
in a very lucid manner — Gen. Canby appearing to understand and 
appreciate what was said, and seeming to coincide with their views. 
Gen. Canby finally said, in a pleasant tone of voice: "I think I fairly 
understand the matter thoroughly, and it will enable me to shape 
the course of things more readily. As it is nearing train time, I 
shall be compelled to leave you." After partaking of a stimulant, 
all parties accompanied him to his carriage. Turning as he was 
about to step in, he said, in a different tone of voice to that used 
but a short time before, "Remember, gentlemen, this is to be re- 
garded as just a pleasant talk, and will not likely result in anything. 
Good-day." The driver tightened his reins, and the General de- 
parted. That was the last we saw of him, for he was soon after- 
wards ordered to the Black Hills. As the vehicle moved off. Gov, 
Orr quietly turned to Gov. Worth, with the brief comment, "I'll be 
damned." We returned to the house, one of the party saying, "Let's 
reverse the old adage, *it's a long time between drinks,' and take 


one in short order." It was done. Gen. Canby was killed in the 
Black Hills; Gov. (or Minister) Orr died in Russia; Gov. Worth 
in North Carolina, and Col. Childs in his home in Columbia. **I 

still live." 

Quickest Trial on Record, 

A trifling darkey from the lower part of the County of Richland, 
who was a known idler and thief, was caught stealing from a hard- 
working colored family. One day all the members were in the field 
at work, when one of them returned to the cabin for some purpose, 
and found a man inside, who had gathered together a lot of stuff 
and put it in the middle of the room, preparatory to carrying it off. 
Frightened, the thief grabbed two sides of bacon and a gun and ran 
off. Stealing to the amount of $25 constitutes grand larcen)r. Col. 
John T. Sloan, for the prisoner, and Solicitor Abney warmed up 
considerably in the attempt to prove and disprove the valuation of 
the stolen goods. The Judge, in charging the jury, stated that the 
removal of articles from their usual place of deposit and putting 
them on the floor, preparatory to carrying them off, settled the ques- 
tion as to grand larceny. The case was given to the jury and we 
filed out. In a few minutes a vote was taken, and we stood ten to 
two. There were two colored men on the jury, and they stood out 
in their opposition to the grand larceny feature. Israel Smith, a 
respectable colored man (formerly an Alderman, and the only mem- 
ber of the board who did not participate in the Opera House job), 
and another who had a good reputation also. I went to them, and 
said to Smith that I had known him all my life, and that his repu- 
tation for honesty stood high. His reply was, "This is a color case, 
and we must stand by our color ;" which was endorsed by the other 
objector. "So," said I, "if a well known idling thief — proven so by 
colored and white witnesses — robs a hard-working family, you must 
uphold the thief and let the honest folks lose?" "I never thought of 
it that way,'*^ was the quick response, and we had a verdict at once. 
The jury returned into Court, with a verdict of "guilty of grand 
larceny." It was sentence day, and his case was disposed of at 
once, and that afternoon he was put to work on the canal. 

A little darkey, not more than ten years of age, was being tried 
for killing a white child, by causing him to fall from a turn-table at 
the South Carolina Depot. "All of which occurred on the 31st of 
September," etc. It was but a short time to the dinner hour, and 
I "let her roll" without saying anything until the recess, when I 
called the attention of counsel to the mistake. The case was nol 
prossed by the Solicitor, after consulting with the Judge. 


Caricatured Once Too Often. 

Andy Baskin, a well known member of the legal fraternity, who 
thoroughly enjoyed a joke and was a well known mimic, is remem- 
bered by many. He used to annoy Mr. Joseph T. Zealy so fre- 
quently, that "Uncle Joe" would frequently hurl a rough expression 
in reply to a supposed question from the joker, and find out after- 
wards the mistake he had made. Henry Taylor, a man who stut- 
tered fearfully, was the subject of Andy's skill at mimicking on 
many occasions. Henry tried a hum-bugging so-called "professor," 
who impressed his patient with the belief that he had benefited him. 
Henry had a fight with Minturn, the hotel man, who got him down 
and was pounding him severely, when Taylor whipped out his knife 
and slashed him in the eye, putting out that useful member. He was 
prosecuted and Baskin defended him. I rather guess that lawyer 
and client had imbibed before the case began; at all events, such 
grandiloquent language was used in the defence as to excite mirth 
all over the Court House — even the Judge quietly smiled. Much to 
the disappointment of the parties interested, Henry was fined $300, 
which he made light of, and paid promptly. As I said before, the 
stutterer thought he had been broken of this ugly habit, and he would 
sometimes say to parties similarly afflicted, "Go-o-o-o to-o-o the-e-e 
man-n-n that-t-t cure-cure-cured me," shaking his right leg behind 
him vigorously at the same time. Andy was aware of this pecu- 
liarity and would sometimes imitate him wonderfully. Henry heard 
of it, and expressed his disapproval. With a party of chums one 
day, something was said about Henry, when Andy began his amus- 
ing performance; but Henry happened to be passing, and without 
saying a word, let drive with his fist and downed the discomfited 
lawyer — who had sense enough to lie still until his antagonist shuffled 
off, muttering, "I-I-I tol-tol-told yo-yo-you to-to-to stop-stop -stop 
it-it-it." I think he did. Henry was brave, but easily ruffled, and 
then you would have to look out. 

History of a Gold Snuff-Box, 

About the time it was decided to erect the new State Capitol of 
South Carolina, two brothers, named Hammarkshold, natives of 
Sweden, came over to America. One of them, an architect and civil 
engineer, obtained a position with Mr. Niernsee on that work ; the 
other, a mining engineer, drifted to Lincolnton, N. C, and connected 
himself with Col. Lysander D. Childs in an enterprise of this nature ; 
but they were unsuccessful and dropped out. The mining brother 


had a beautiful gold snuff-box, presented to him by King Oscar, of 
Sweden. The top of it was ornamented with flowers and leaves, 
constructed of precious stones, surrounded by an "O" (Oscar), of 
the same ornamentation. On settling their mining affairs, the snuff- 
box came into the possession of Col. C, who held it for a time and 
then decided to sell it ; took it to New York and left in with a promi- 
nent jewelry firm to be disposed of. Before leaving the city an inti- 
mate acquaintance told him that he believed he could get a customer 
for the box ; that it would be necessary to carry it to the party, and 
suggested that he give him an order on the jewellers for the valua- 
ble box. The party spoke so plausibly about the matter, that Col. 
C. not only gave him the order, but introduced him to the heads of 
the firm. The prize was obtained, and Col. C. thought no more of 
the matter until several months had elapsed, when on visiting the 
city, he dropped in at the store aforesaid, and casually remarked, 
"No sale for the snuff-box, eh?'* "Snuff-box?" was the surprised 
reply ; "why, we have seen nothing of it since the party you gave the 
order to called and took it away." Of course, search was immedi- 
ately begun, and the box was found in the hands of a pawn-broker, 
where it had been "spouted" for $700. It was recovered, but there 
was no prosecution — the Colonel pocketing his chagrin and his box. 
Years afterwards, in some legal business, it is supposed. Col. Rion, 
of Winnsboro, got hold of the valuable but unfortunate article, as it 
was seen in his possession, or, at least, parties so asserted. Dame 
Rumor had put forth a report that Col. Rion was a son of the 
Dauphin of France, the child of the unfortunate Louis XIV. and his 
beautiful Queen, Marie Antoinette, who lost their heads on the 
guillotine, and the possession of the handsome gold snuff-box was 
considered positive proof of the correctness of that surmise. With- 
out stopping to consider how it would have been possible for the 
poor boy to have hidden such a valuable prize from the peering eyes 
of old Samuel, the cobbler, into whose hands he fell, the gullible 
mystery-loving public swallowed the story. Col. Rion died, and the 
box, I am told, was disposed of in New York. All the parties con- 
nected with the affair have long since crossed the river. Bad luck 
has followed the box, but I can trace it no further. 

The Greek Slave and Eve, 

Hiram Powers, the famous sculptor, was enabled to gain the pin- 
nacle of his artistic fame through the liberality of a resident of 
Columbia, Col. John S. Preston. William C. Preston, Esq., while a 
member of Congress, amused himself frequently by going among the 


working men and exchanging pleasant words with them. He be- 
came particularly interested in Hiram Powers — ^admired his skill, 
and chatted with him frequently. One day the incipient sculptor, 
speaking of his work, regretted his inability, owing to lack of funds, 
to take a course of sculpture study in Rome, as he believed he had 
the talent in him which only required developing. Hon. Wm. C. 
was not well supplied with the wherewithal, but communicated with 
his brother, John, and the money was furnished. We know the rest. 
Powers went to Rome, and became one of the first sculptors of the 
age. Among the earliest results of the work of his chisel was a bust 
of Hon. John S. Preston. That which gained him notoriety was 
the "Greek Slave." Seven duplicates of this famous statue are in 
existence. But the original is believed to be in the Corcoran Gallery 
in Washington. His patron gave him an order for an "Eve," 
which was promptly executed — indeed, it is thought that work on 
the "Slave" and "Eve" were carried on at the same time, and on the 
completion of the two well known pieces of work the owners allowed 
them to be exKibited for the artist's benefit. After being seen in 
the principal cities of the country, they reached Columbia, and were 
shown in the old City Hall, northeast corner of Main and Washing- 
ton streets. "Eve" was delivered to its owner here, while the 
"Slave" arrived in New York safely. I once asked the manager of 
the Corcoran Gallery how it happened that they did not secure 
"Eve" for their collection; his reply was that they did not know 
that Gen. Preston cared to part with it. "We have several pictures 
and articles of virtu formerly belonging to Gen. Preston," said the 
gentleman ; "and surprise was felt that Mr. Stewart, the New York 
merchant, had obtained it." By some mistake at the sale of Mrs. 
Stewart's effects after her death, Ed. Stokes, of Jim Fish notoriety, 
secured it, and it ornamented his Hoffman House saloon. New York. 
I discovered it in an out-of-the-way corner of the handsome estab- 
lishment, and notified the Corcoran Gallery manager. The baptis- 
mal font in Trinity Church, this city, is the work of Powers, and 
was presented by Mrs. Hampton. 

The Quitman Ball and Supper, 

Gen. John A. Quitman paid a visit by invitation to the capital city 
of South Carolina during the administration of Gov. R. F. W. 
Alston. There was a procession and speaking by the distinguished 
guest and other prominent gentlemen; but it was regular "dumb 
orator." The speaking was in the new College Chapel, at the head 
of Sumter street, and the acoustics of the building are actually worse 
6 — M 


than the Opera House. The speakers would saw the air, look sk\'- 
wards and appear to be using fine language, but nothing could be 
understood. The grand attraction, however, was the ball and sup- 
per at Kinsler's Hall, northwest corner of Taylor and Main streets. 
The rooms were simply packed, and it was with difficulty that the 
Governor and the honored guest could make a circle of the hall. 
The appearance of the two men was striking — Gen. Quitman sallow 
and feeble, Gov. Alston ruddy and in good condition, with a healthy 
a la well-fed Englishman appearance. Dancing was carried on after 
a fashion, the crowd being so dense that the Terpsichorean devotees 
couldn't make much of a show of fancy steps. But the push oc- 
curred when supper was announced — all seemed to be hungry. The 
stairway appeared literally to tremble from the unusual pressure ; but 
there was no damage beyond rents being made in unnecessarily long 
garments. Among the table ornaments was a model of the Castle of 
Chapultepec, which was attacked and demolished in a shorter time 
than the Palmetto and New York regiments did the original; the 
other eatables suffered a similar fate. Mr. McKenzie's rule was to 
have everything on the table of a nature pleasing to the palate. The 
old General died soon afterwards. Gov. Alston passed away at a 
good old age. 

Shrewd Speaker — Changed Front. 

Daddy Cain, a so-called exhorter, was one of the most shrewd 
members of the Radical Senate in the times of "good stealing" in 
South Carolina. A bill with reference to a bank was being dis- 
cussed, and Daddy Cain had not been "fixed." The sable Senator 
proceeded to attack the bill savagely. Tim Hurley, the noted mem- 
ber of the "third house," listened for a few minutes, and then hur- 
ried to the fathers of the scheme, and told them that Cain was killing 
the bill, and they had better pay him the $300. The money was 
immediately put in an envelope and given to Tim, who sauntered 
into the chamber, and carelessly laid the package in front of the sup- 
posed opponent. There was a slight pause only, when Cain somer- 
saulted from his previous remarks somewhat to this effect: "That, 
gentlemen, is what the opponents of the bill, doubtless, will 
say." He then proceeded to tear to pieces what he had just said, 
and satisfactorily proved that the measure was a good one — at least, 
the bill was passed. Tim was a genius in his way, but Cain was the 
sharper of the two. "Daddy" became a preacher afterwards. 

"Tree of Life'' — A Reminiscence, 
The completion of the Synagogue, "Tree of Life," on Lady street, 


between Sumter and Marion, by our Jewish friends, brings to mind 
the neat little building southeast corner Assembly street and Stan- 
ley's alley. There were a great many Israelites living here then, but 
they died out or are scattered — ^the Lyons, Pollocks, Peixottos, 
Mordecais, Myers, Carrs, Levys, and others. The Sunday School 
had large numbers of scholars, and was superintended by Miss 
Boana Wolf (afterwards Levy). The examinations were annually 
held in Odd Fellows Hall, northwest corner Main and Plain streets, 
and it was usually packed with interested spectators, Jews and Gen- 
tiles. Rachel (a typical Jewess) and Isaac Lyons were two of the 
"star scholars." Mr. Thomas Frean, our old poet friend, paid a just 
poetical tribute to Miss Levy, to which Mr. Philip Myers, a member 
of the congregation, replied. We extract the following from it: 

Miss B. E. W.'s charms you were pleased to unfold — 
Who is held by her people more precious than gold, 
For the mountains of Israel will rear them on high, 
And spread all her virtues e*en clear to the sky. 
The mothers of Israel have nothing to dread, 
When they look with due reverence on thy hoary head ; 
And will fervently pray they may live to see 
The same zeal and devotion now practiced by thee. 

Mrs. Levy has descendants of the second and third generation, I 

Jacob Rife's Rhyming Outdone, 

Many old residents remember Jacob Rife, the jolly rhyming keeper 
of the Congaree Bridge. So it sounded like a rhyme, whether 
grammatical or not, satisfied the old man, when he would laugh 
heartily, slap his listener on the back and then quiet down. In and 
before the forties pic-nicking on the Lexington side of the river, as 
far as Saluda Factory, was a favorite amusement of the young 
folks, who invariably walked (not like at present, when this genera- 
tion must be transported even half a mile) ; elderly people, like our 
old friend, Mrs. Hillegas, would ride in their carriages, and will- 
ingly carry the baskets for the youngsters. Mr. Charles Logan had 
recently arrived from the old country — a buckish young man of 
twenty-three or four, a great lover and frequent attendant at these 
frolics. He was a practical shoe-maker, and at the time was super- 
intending business for Mr. James Fenton (whose former residence, 
northwest corner Main and Pendleton, still stands). One morning, 
while the would-be bridge-crossers were collecting the tolls, old 
Jacob walked up to Mr. Logan, and with the accompanying laugh, 
blurted out: 

"Say, Mr. Charley Logan, 
Can you make a brogan?" 


**Yes," was Mr. Logan's quick rejoinder; "and I can make a 

rhyme, too: 

"WeU, old Jacob Rife, 
How's your nigger wife?" 

Rife was taken aback, muttered something about not wanting to 
insult anybody, received his tolls and retired, while the listeners 
roared with laughter at his discomifiture. 

Wouldn't Make a Hog of Himself. 

I could generally get rid of a reasonable amount of provender, and 
Purser Ashcroft, of the steamship "Georgia," plying between 
Charleston and New York, used to invariably invite me to a seat at 
his table — and I occupied the place a good many times — ^because he 
said I handled a knife and fork so skilfully. At a barbecue at the 
Fair Grounds, I felt particularly healthy, and was putting away a 
goodly amount of provender. Mr. John Altee, an old acquaintance, 
came several timeswith a nice piece of meat, saying he had filled up, 
but knew that I could appreciate good barbecued meat better than 
any one he knew. In a few minutes, Tom Pope, who was seated 
opposite to me, threw down his knife and fork and got up from the 
table, saying he "wouldn't make a cussed hog of himself for ten dol- 
lars !'' There was general laughter and shouting. I knew nothing 
about the matter, but it seems that Mr. Altee had pitted me against 
Tom for that amount, and I had made the money for him. A year 
or two after, when the old gentleman was on his death-bed, I called 
to see him. He recognized me and smiled. As I was about to leave, 
I took him by the hand and told him good-bye — saying I would call 
again to see him. As I turned, one of his sons said his father wanted 
to speak to me. I leaned over him, and in a whisper, he asked, 
"Have you been to any barbecues lately ?'' He died the next day. 

A Necessary BviL 

Policeman Sonendriker was put forward by the law and order 
society to have the inmates of a house in the lower part of the city 
removed, on the ground that they were disreputable characters. The 
policeman was a very efficient officer ari3 entered heart and soul in 
the prosecution, as he with his family lived in the neighborhood. He 
kept an eye on the place and secured the names of a number of per- 
sons who had been seen going into the suspected house. Mr. Wm. 
M. Myers, in the meantime, had returned to Columbia from his vol- 
untary exile, and was retained by the suspects to defend them. The 
case was called, Sonendriker was put up and gave very damaging 
evidence. The defending lawyer would question and cross-question 


him, invariably addressing him as Snasheldringer, to tantalize him ; 
but it had no apparent effect on the stolid French-German. Wit- 
nesses were called and the parties admitted they had been in the 
house on certain occasions. One had been there to see about having 
some fancy shirts made; another to make an offer for a piece of 
property possessed by one of the inmates, and so on. The affair 
petered out and the defendants won, as they generally do when such 
charges are preferred. In one case Judge John Belton O'Neale said 
that class of individuals were a "necessary evil." Sonendriker was 
a native of Alsace-Lorraine, and one of the witnesses in the unplea- 
sant affair, on leaving the Court House, called him a d — d Dutch- 
man, The cool reply was : "I not sure about dot — I have not see dis 
morning paper; may be Dutch, may be French." This was before 

Camp Sorghum — Lexington Side Congaree. 

Few persons now living remember Camp Sorghum, which was 
used as a place of confinement for Federal prisoners. Several of 
the aforesaid have visited Columbia in recent years, and where ap- 
plication was made to me, I have either accompanied the parties to 
the ground, or directed them so they could find it. A member of a 
New Hampshire regiment recognized the place at once, except that 
a branch running through it went the wrong way. I told him that 
it had been running in that direction for sixty years, and he then 
gave in. The ex-prisoner washed his face, took a drink from the 
stream, pocketed several pebbles, and departed a happy man. He 
attributed his good health during his confinement to the presence 
of the waters of this branch — he washed freely, cold or warm, wet 
or dry. Gen. John B. Dennis, afterwards Superintendent of the 
Penitentiary, made his escape from this "camp," and after his set- 
tlement in Columbia, succeeded in finding the colored man who 
assisted his escape by carrying him some distance down the river in 
his boat. "Camp Sorghum^' is on the west side of the road to old 
Saluda Factory, a little over a mile from the Congaree Bridge. 

Let the Lord Have Good Music. 

If some of our old citizens who have been laid away for forty 
or fifty -years could get up and see how the world moves, they would 
want to turn in again and take another nap. Not only would they 
be astonished at the phonographs, automobiles, bicycles and electri- 
cal manipulations — even if they had been on hand during railroad 
and telegraph days; but to find how we have advanced in church 
music. Many years ago, Elder James Martin, of the Presbyterian 


Church, a wealthy cotton buyer, was horrified at the choir singing 
"Claremont,'* and at the beginning of the second verse, he picked up 
his hat and stalked out of the church. It was ever after known as 
"Jimmy Martin's Quickstep," and was not again utilized. But when 
the staid Methodists introduced pianos, cornets and violins in their 
Sunday School services, I am afraid the parties would think they had, 
by mistake, gotten upon another planet. Have nothing to say 
against it, and firmly believe that the change to more lively airs and 
the instrumental aid will be received cordially by the Great Ruler. 
Merely a bit of retrospection. Freely admit that I like it. 

Scriptural Locusts, 

Columbia has kept up with the procession in wonderful happen- 
ings — burnings, earthquakes and other disagreeable as well as plea- 
sant things — and if the list should be called over, "Here!'' would 
be the response in nearly every instance. About twenty years ago, 
we had a plague of locusts — they were here, there and everywhere, 
but did no serious harm, and departed again as speedily and quietly 
as they had arrived. Our late scientific friend. Dr. E. E. Jackson, 
decided to give the insects a "turn," and cooked them in several 
different ways, declaring that they were really toothsome. I was 
satisfied with taking his word, backed up by the Scriptures, but didn't 
experiment with the jumping-flyers. 

A Big Drunk, 

Mr. Thos. Sprowl, the well known marble cutter, of the firm of 
Boyne & Sprowl, had some kind of employment at the laboratory 
(old Fair Grounds), and when it was found that the Yankees were 
actually entering the city, he was deputised to knock in the heads and 
empty forty or fifty barrels of whiskey stored there. Tom started 
on his disagreeable job, but the Federal soldiers came on him before 
he had done little besides knocking in several of the barrel-heads. 
They charged him with attempting to poison the liquor, took him 
arnund and made him take a drink out of every one of them. The 
f)our man said he didn't get over this drunk in a month — in fact, 
didn't believe he ever got entirely over it. Tom was the owner of 
"Pnvt^rty J*atch," two or three miles below Columbia, which he 
chiinifd was so poor that you couldn't even raise a mortgage on it. 

Thf late Mr. J. S, Derrick, superintendent of the gas works, could 
always remember the number of days in the year. Sherman's sol- 
dicTH punolied e.xactly 365 holes in the gasometer, and he had to patch 
tluMU all. 


Didn't Approve of Circus in the Street. 

Col. Thos. J. Robertson, Col. Wiley Jones, this individual and 
many others were great admirers of the circus and attended often ; 
but the first named party objected to street exhibitions of that nature. 
My six-year-old boy possessed an old army horse which would jump 
over anything, from a rail fence to a good resolution. The boy 
learned the proficiency of the animal, and practiced it almost daily. 
Col. R. saw him at it, and rode rapidly to overtake him, but the 
scrawny horse went over the ground too rapidly, encouraged by the 
youthful rider. The Colonel finally notified me that he'd kill the 
animal, if he had to pay for another, as he was afraid the child 
would get killed. "I like circus performances, but not in the street,'' 
he added. The horse was disposed of. Col. Robertson was an ex- 
cellent horseman and mounted good stock. It seemed sad in his 
latter days that he could not enjoy his favorite recreation, and had to 
satisfy himself with a carriage and pair of horses. 

Horn of Plenty — Cornucopia, 

In the fall of 1864, the ladies decided to get up a "Bazaar," for the 
benefit of the wounded soldiers, in the State Capitol, and a wonder- 
ful affair it proved to be — successful in every way. The exhibits 
were unique and the eatables and drinkables enticing. Col. James 
F. Sims, who was assisting the ladies in their laudable enterprise, 
heard some of them discussing the preparation of a cornucopia, or 
"horn of plenty." "Well, now, don't worry yourselves about the 
matter," he gladly suggested. "My old friend, John McKenzie, 
will lend us his handsome silver fire horn, and that will just fill the 
bill." The ladies were too polite to point out his misunderstanding 
of their wants, and used the silver horn as an ornpjnent for one of the 
tables. The old Colonel was delighted at his shrewd suggestion. 
A number of new Confederate uniforms on unknown men, were 
noticed at the "Bazaar," but no suspicions were aroused. When 
Sherman arrived in Columbia several months afterwards, some of 
his officers described scenes that had occurred during the famous 
entertainment, showing they had been there in propria personae. 

Three Treasured Memories, 

I have three handsome silver cups, which I treasure highly. One 
was presented by Dr. Robert W. Gibbes, Sr., my employer for nearly 
fifteen years, with the inscription: "Independence Day, December 
20, 1865." A young lady from the North, who was looking over my 
curios, sneeringly inquired what 'the inscription meant. My reply 


was, that if Gen. Longstreet hadn't made a mistake, or failed to come 
to time at Gettysburg, she would have known long ago the meaning. 
The next is a large sized mug, perfectly plain, presented to me by 
my old friend, Capt. Thos. W. Radcliff e, with the hope that it would 
prove a talisman for the inauguration of better times; but he par- 
ticularly requested that no lettering of any kind be put upon it, and 
so it stands. The third is a goblet presented by the employees of 
The Phoenix. All, or nearly all, of the parties have crossed the 
river, and I sincerely hope are resting securely on the other shore. 

Following Bad Examples. 

Our Democratic legislators are yearly following the bad examples 
set by the Radicals, and it is glossed over or not mentioned. They 
draw pay when absent for several days; adjourn over for one and 
even two days ; lay off when business is really pressing, to go to the 
theatre ; draw $5 a session for stationery and stamps, yet use large 
quantities of letter-heads obtained from committee clerks; have 
clerks for nearly all committees; leave a corporal's guard to look 
after business on the last day of the session, etc. Encourage State 
officials to print lengthy reports, which could not possibly be read 
during the session. And as for the x\cts, they are so carelessly 
copied, that blunders are constantly occurring. Some curious mem- 
ber, who will make a "Reform" movement and look over the laws, 
will find that \nolations are frequent in various departments, and 
some of the officials may yet come to grief, as the old laws have not 
been repealed, although it is claimed that amendments repeal old 
Acts — many of these changes refer to portions only of the original 
Acts. These shortcomings are commented on by many individuals. 

Built Before the Rez'olution. 

The only house in this N-icinit}- which is known to have been 
erected prior to the Revolutionar>- ^^'ar is what is known as Cayce's. 
in Lexington County, two miles below Columbia. The builder or 
the original owner seems to be unknown. A member of the exten- 
sive Taylor family kept a store there early in the last century. The 
Cayce family have occupied the premises for over seventy years, so I can learn. Fort Granby was situated a mile or two below, 
and English soldiers at different times occupied it. Light Horse 
Ham* Lee attacked it at one time and drove the Ensrlish out. Lee 
fired two cannon balls, much to the surprise of the commander — who 
supposed it was merely a dimimy — one over and the other into the 
house, the Tohnnv Bulls marchevi out and surrendered, when 


they were immediately paroled. The hole made by the cannon ball 
is still to be seen. Many years ago, in clearing up some woods to the 
south of the building, a cannon ball was found embedded in a tree — 
believed to have been the one ifired overhead by Lee. There is a 
venerable portrait of a female member of the Geiger jEamily in the 

All Rice. 

Away back in the early forties, two plump and handsome young 
ladies, great friends — Miss Rebecca Boatwright and Miss Jenny 
Rice — daughters of prominent citizens of Columbia, used to be seen 
on Main street frequently in company. On one occasion, passing by 
a party of impertinent young men, one of them commented favora- 
bly on the fine looking couple, in a tone of voice loud enough to be 
overheard (unintentionally, perhaps) ; when Mr. Impertinence No. 
2 replied, "Yes; but mostly cotton." Miss Rice promptly turned 
about, faced the surprised individual, and in a sharp tone gave him 
his quietus: "All Rice, no cotton, Til have you to understand." 
The parties reflected on then resuming their walk. Miss Rice soon 
after removed witK'her parents to the up-country, and mothered a 
family, I afterwards heard. Miss Boatwright remained in her old 
home, continued to be the reigning belle, became engaged to a col- 
lege student, named Swinton (her opposite in looks, he being tall 
and slim, with light hair) ; but just before his graduation, she con- 
tracted fever and died after a short illness. Swinton took her death 
so seriously to heart, that he soon followed her to the grave. 

Don't Darn on the Darn, 

The following lines, enclosed with a fancy silver-handled darner, 
were sent to a truly charitable lady who was looking after two 

adopted youngsters : 

As every one knows 

Who cares for the hose 
Of the average American boy; 

He gets half way thro' 

'Spite of all you do — 
Making darner useful, 'stead of toy. 

Not for ornament 

Is this implement 
Consigned to your basket and care; 

But as weekly aid 

To stop the holes made, 
Keep the pedals from getting quite bare. 

My advice is this 

(Don't take it amiss), 
In using the necessary yarn — 

My mother thought best, 

But I would suggest, 
By all means pray don't darn on the darn. 


X 10 U 8, 

A circumstance connected with the row of wooden buildings 
which formerly stood in the rear of the DesPortes corner, shows the 
uncertainty of life. When these little stores were erected, the land- 
lord with every tenant, except Messrs. Townsend & North, book- 
sellers, required an agreement to be signed to the effect that no 
liquor should be sold on the premises. Messrs. T. & N. died, and 
soon after a liquor shop with a sign over it "X 10 U 8," was in ope- 
ration. After some legal trouble, the "extenuate" objectionable in- 
dividual was ousted, and the place occupied by other parties. 

Don't Interfere Betiveen Husband and Wife. 

Very few remember when "straps" were in vogue. I had a pair 
of so-called buckskin pants, so tightly strapped, that in walking, I 
had to be careful to keep from kicking myself. In company with 
one of my numerous sweethearts, I was on my way (footing it, as 
was the custom,) to a frolic below the State House. In passing 
"New Dublin," a portion of the west side of the square on Main 
street, between Lady and Gervais, I heard screams of "Murder!" 
Leaving my young lady on the sidewalk, I rushed in and found an 
Irishman belaboring his wife. Going up behind him, I caught him 
by the shoulders with both hands and succeeded in throwing him on 
his back, and attempted to hold him until the wife could get out of 
the way. In a few seconds I felt something hot on both legs, and 
found that the indignant woman removed a frying-pan containing 
sausages, which she was preparing for a late supper, and was delib- 
erately pouring the hot grease over my close-fitting nether garments. 
I was informed that I had no right to interfere between husband 
and wife, and that if I did not get out at once, she would crack my 
skull with the handy implement. I left without further notice. 

Objected to Being Made a Nun. 

A colored man, John by name, was employed as a gardener at 
Valle Crucis (the old Preston residence, on the east side of the Mill 
Creek Road, used as a Convent for several years), two miles below 
Columbia. Father Meriwether looked after the spiritual as well as 
the substantial affairs of the institution. John became impressed 
with the religious feeling permeating the premises, and expressed a 
disposition to Dr. M. to become a Catholic. The Doctor was grati- 
fied, gave him some religious instruction and directed him to come 
and see him twice a week — mentioning the days or evenings when it 
would be convenient to converse with him. A fortnight passed and 


John had not put in an appearance at the Doctor's quarters. Hav- 
ing an opportunity to speak with him soon afterwards, inquiry was 
made as to his absence. His reply was, "My old woman say, 'John, 
you better think what you doing. Dr. Meriwether talk to you, and 
next thing you get to be a Nun.' Consequently I didn't come again." 
John drew the line. 

Sam Wouldn't Stay Dead. 

Eight or ten years ago, a delicate colored man, Sam by name, died 
or appeared to have shaken off this mortal coil. A circus was ex- 
hibiting in town, and his friends were anxious to witness the per- 
formance ; but what to do about sitters-up with Sam ? Finally, one 
old chum, Jim, agreed if they would chip in and buy him a half 
bushel of potatoes, he would "sit-up" with the corpse. The pota- 
toes were procured, and Jim squatted himself comfortably before the 
fire-place and began roasting his vegetables, crooning a plantation 
melody at the same time. The pleasant aroma began to fill the room 
and Jim was thinking of the pleasure in store, when a weak voice 
was heard behind him : "Jim, give me some of them taters." The 
astonished darkey looked round suddenly, and saw the supposed 
corpse sitting up. The door and window were too far off. So Jim 
threw himself against the back of the chimney, went through 
and made tracks. Sam recovered then ; about a year afterwards he 
actually died; but there were no sitters-up. "That nigger, Sam, 
aint to be 'pended on — he wake up again." Sam was locked up in a 
room until arrangements could be made for the funeral. The house 
fell down, but the "busted" chimney remained for several years, on 
the lot opposite the Catholic Cemetery. 

Couldn't Stand the Coifins. 

Our old friend, Mr. M. H. Berry, and his copartner, J. C. Price, 
inaugurated the fashion of keeping those necessary articles, coffins, 
on han«l Their store was on the corner of Richardson street anvl 
the alley nov/ known as Lorick & Lowrance's. The building was 
ill danger of destruction by fire, when numbers of volunteers rusherl 
in to help save the movable property. They cleared out the hrhfc 
story, and were requested to help move the articles in the cellar, 
as there was a large stock down there. The crowd, white and black, 
descended willingly ; but if they went down in a hurry, they came 
back a little more rapidly. The piles of coffins were too much for 
them — they were unused to it. The building soon after caught fire, 
and the receptacles for the dead were all consumed. 



The Lone Grave in the Capitol Grounds. 

The lone grave in the Capitol grounds has caused considerable 
inquiry — Capt. Lunsford, a member of Lee's Legion. A statement 
was published some time ago, purporting to have been written by a 
descendant, to the effect that Capt. Lunsford died in Charleston, of 
yellow fever, was brought to Columbia and buried in the southwest 
corner of the State House grounds, because the property belonged to 
him. This is altogether a mistake and incorrect, to say the least of 
it. A yellow fever subject would never have been allowed to leave 
Charleston ; it would have taken from sixty to seventy hours of fast 
travel to have gotten through, as it was long before railroad days ; 
besides, in the original map of Columbia, the four acres of ground 
bounded by Senate, Assembly, Gervais and Richardson streets, was 
set apart for a State Capitol and necessary grounds. My old friend, 
Mrs. Hillegas, knew the circumstances, and was present at the fune- 
ral of Capt. L. He was a member of the Legislature, died while that 
body was in session, and having been an officer in Lee's famous 
Legion (although the name cannot be found on the rolls), this honor 
was accorded him. The additional four acres to the west were pur- 
chased by the State many years afterwards when it was decided to 
erect a new Capitol across Main street. The property on which the 
town is located formerly belonged to the Taylor family. Col. 
Thompson Earle, a nephew of one of the surveyors, heard his uncle 
say that when the proposition was made to buy the property, that 
the proprietor declared, "they were going to spoil a d — d good cotton 
plantation to build a d — d poor town." His prophecy was not real- 
ized by a mill site. See the application ? 

Mrs. Hillegas' sister. Miss Stanley, was engaged to be married to 
Mr. Henry McGowan. The lovers had a falling out, and in a fit of 
pique. Miss Stanley married a young Frenchman, named Le Comte — 
whose special business seemed to be fiddling. He lived but a short 
time. At the funeral of Capt. Lunsford, the estranged lovers met 
accidentally (everybody walked to funerals in those sensible days), 
talked over their affairs, promptly repaired to a minister and were 
made man and wife. 

Mrs. McGowan and Mr. Andrew Wallace were the standbys of 
the Methodist Church for many years. When funds were needed, 
the one or the other of these liberal church members would say, 
when appealed to, "Well, if Sister McGowan can go a hundred, I 


reckon I can ; or if Brother Wallace will put up fifty dollars, I will." 
Mrs. McGowan was a wealthy woman for those days. She ran 
McGowan's Ferry and afterwards was the principal stockholder in 
the Broad River Bridge. 

Not Afraid of the Dead — Nervy Woman. 

We had nervy women in the old days. Drs. John and James 
Smith, physicians and surgeons, procured a corpse from Potter's 
Field — ^the Coast Line Freight depot occupies a portion of the lot — 
and being pursued, hurriedly entered their home and hid the prize 
under the bed of their fearless sister, where it remained two nights 
undisturbed. The occupant of the bed declared that it did not an- 
noy her in the least. She passed an eventful life and finally com- 
mitted suicide, it was generally believed. The bereaved husband 
was not disconcerted, but married twice afterwards, and finally died 
in a lunatic asylum. 

Malaria and Riley's Whiskey, 

A large number of Irishmen were brought here to work on the 
canal; but the charge was that Barney Riley's whiskey (Mr. B. 
kept a "convenience" in the vicinity) and the malaria from the river 
were too much for even the sturdy sons of Old Erin, and hundreds 
of them were laid away in the old burial ground. Many of the 
small stones, with "I. H. S." inscribed upon them were still standing 
at the time of the great clearing up. 

Potter's Field Used by All Classes, 

Potter's Field was for a length of time used for the burial of all 
classes of people — rich and poor, black and white. The first mer- 
chant in Columbia, who occupied a store, northwest corner Main 
and Boundary, in what was afterwards known as "Cotton Town," 
and who was reputed to be a man of wealth, was deposited there 
with his wife, under marble slabs, and with a substantial brick en- 
closure. When the premises were disposed of to the railroad com- 
pany, the relatives of the dead merchant in Connecticut were notified 
that the remains would be shipped to them if they so desired, but 
they paid no attention to the matter. Messrs. Walter S. Monteith 
and W. S. Reamer secured the contract to remove the bodies, before 
turning the premises over to the railroad officials, but I never heard 
of any disinterments being requested. Mrs. M. W. Stratton claimed 
and received the brick enclosing the remains of an aunt and uncle, 
however. The old head and foot-stones went somewhere. 


Why Major O'Hanlon was Buried Here. 

Major James O'Hanlon, of "Log Castle," as it was called, married 
one of the Myers sisters from the lower part of Richland District. 
The Major was an earnest admirer of Gen. Andrew Jackson, and 
declared that if the latter was elected President of the United States, 
he would walk to and from Washington City to see him inaugurated. 
Jackson was elected, he kept his promise, and felt that it actually bene- 
fited his health. His wife died some years before the Major was 
called away, and was buried in the Myers family burial ground. The 
Major and his brothers-in-law did not get along amicably, and when 
it was reported that Major O'H. could not survive the illness which 
actually carried him off, Mr. W. M. Myers, who was of an irascible 
temperament, swore that the remains should not repose in his family 
lot — that he would dig up his carcase and feed it to the hogs. The 
sick man was informed of the circumstances, and left directions that 
his body should be interred in Columbia, and it was done. 

Myers vs, Tradewell — The Unf ought Duel, 

Mr. William Myers (he was Intendant of the town for a term) 
was regarded as a fearless man ; but for once his courage failed him. 
He had a difficulty with Capt. James D. Tradewell, and fractured 
his skull with a stick. The head was trephined and the wounded 
man recovered in a wonderfully short time. A challenge followed, 
and the parties repaired to North Carolina to settle the matter — a 
long trip to be taken by horse power. Mr. M.'s courage, like Bob 
Acres', "oozed out at his finger ends." At the appointed hour, 
Capt. T., with his second, Mr. Edward Young, put in an appearance, 
as also Major Smart, Mr. M.'s second; but the doughty and usually 
plucky opponent was not on hand. Major Smart attempted to take 
the place of his principal, according to the rules of the code duello; 
but Captain Tradewell refused to meet the substitute — very properly 
and sensibly declaring that he respected Major Smart as a gentle- 
man ; but his grievance was not with Major S. but with Mr. M. The 
affair had a fatal termination, however ; for Mr. Edward Young con- 
tracted a severe cold, which resulted in his death in a few days. 
His aged father soon followed him. Mr. Myers returned to his 
plantation, and was not seen in Columbia for ten years. Had he 
flatly refused to fight when challenged, he would not have been cen- 
sured, as his courage was undoubted. It was just a case of "stage 
fright," or unwillingness to "fight." 

So far as I know, there never was but one other back out in a duel 
in this State ; and in that case the poor man died of chagrin. 


Mistakes on Tomb-stones. 

In the thirties and early forties, Mr. James R. Wood and his good 
wife taught "the young idea," etc., on Richland street, the site now 
occupied by Ebenezer Lutheran Sunday School building. Mr. 
Wood had turned seventy when I was placed under his instruction 
in 1840. He told us he \^as a Revolutionary soldier, and, I think, 
an officer, but whether from this State or another, I cannot say. He 
had a full head of snow-white hair, and his complexion was Indiany 
and a mass of wrinkles. He taught in the good old whipping days 
and knew how to use his weapons — a whip and a flat ruler. He 
made no distinction — girls got punished as well as boys. One day, 
he had Miss McKinney before him (afterwards Mrs. Coleman 
Walker), a very pretty girl; taking her hand in his, he said in a 
pleasing way, "It seems a pity to slap such a delicate hand.'' The 
culprit turned and smiled at her comrades, thinking she was going to 
"get off," but in a few seconds there was a whack, a yell, and the 
deed was done. There are a few of these scholars — less than a 
dozen that I know of — now above ground. Three sisters, who shall 
be nameless, as age is not a desirable admission ; Capt. Wm. H, Dial, 
of Madison, Fla., Mr. John T. Fetner, of this city, and this individ- 
ual. The old gentleman departed this life in 1857, and the tomb- 
stone, in the First Presbyterian Church-yard, imparts the information 
that his age was about seventy- two. Certainly must have been a 
young soldier. This is only one of many evidences that tomb-stones 
are not to be depended upon for reliable information. 

In the Vanderhorst vault, in Magnolia Cemetery, Charleston, a 
lady member of the family is reported to have died in Columbia, 
during the burning of that city, February 24, 1865 — when we know 
that the Shermanizing occurred February 17, 1865; many of us, 
too, are aware of the circumstances attending the death referred to. 
The patient was being removed from her burning dwelling when 
death ensued. 

Of course, it would be improper to refer to compliments paid to 
the deceased, while their good deeds are so terribly exaggerated. 

Undertaker Squier Measuring the Dead. 

In the good old days "'fore de war," ready-made coffins were un- 
known. Mr. A. C. Squier was the principal undertaker, and it used 
to be said the old gentleman would move around the corpse, gesticu- 
lating slightly, and apparently sympathizing with the bereaved ones, 
when in reality he was getting the measure of the subject, prepara- 
tory to building his ground-house. 


Fearful Loss of Life — The Gen, Lyon. 

Overcome by the terrible condition of things in Columbia after 
the burning, numbers of citizens who had relatives and friends North, 
determined to accept the offer of Gen. Tecumseh Sherman to fur- 
nish transportation to them to New York. They followed the army, 
and finally arrived at Wilmington, N. C*, where two steamers had 
been sent by the Washington authorities to convey the refugees to 
Gotham — ^the Gen. Lyon and the Gen. Sedgwick. A lady friend of 
mine, with her husband and children, went aboard the Lyon, but 
something, she could not say what, prejudiced her, and she prevailed 
on all of them to go ashore, saying she would remain in Wilmington 
until she could get back to Columbia. Her husband remonstrated 
with her, but go on the Lyon she would not. Finally they succeeded 
in obtaining passage on the Sedgwick. Two days afterwards the 
Lyon was burnt, not a soul on the crowded steamer being saved, so 
far as known. A young Englishman, named Hunt (son of Mr. E. 
Hunt, who came here to 'eat the State House), attempted to reach 
the Sedgwick, but as he was being hauled aboard, fell back exhausted 
into the water and was drowned. It is believed fully thirty Colum- 
bians lost their lives on the ill-fated steamer. 

Dont Bet with an Undertaker. 

I was in the coffin department of a well known undertaker some 
years ago, when he was preparing a six-foot casket for a subject 
who was my exact height — six feet three inches. I claimed that it 
was too short, and offered to bet twenty-five cents to back my judg- 
ment. It was accepted, and I got inside to settle the point. The 
lid was put on, and I came out loser. As it was removed and I 
raised up, a darkey put his head in the door. The sight was too 
much for him, and he left hurriedly. It was never found out what 
he wanted. 

Old Potter's Field Despoiled. 

\'er>- few corpses remained long under gpround when deposited in 
old Potter's Field. The prominent physicians would have young 
men stud\*ing under them — Drs. Wells and Toland, Gibbes, Fair and 
Crane — and bodies were being constantly exhumed for use by these 
young to-be disciples of Esculapius. Tom Dunkin and his half- 
witted nephew. Bob Xoal, two fishermen, would occasionally be em- 
ployed to watch for the grave-robbers ; but a quart of whiskey prop- 
erlv administereii to the one and a silver quarter to the other would 
send them off on a "wild goose chase." it was said. 


Darkeys and Sunday Funerals, 

In the good old times there was invariably a funeral service at 
Potter's Field on Sunday afternoon over some colored individual 
wh' had died a month or two before, perhaps. The question might 
be asked by a looker-on, '* Who's dead?" and the reply frequently 
would be. Sister Jane or Brother Williams, "but he have to wait he 
turn." The service after the sermon would be of a novel nature. 
Deceased's friends would sing a refrain or two, until the excitement 
got high enough, when the "holy dance" could be practiced. One 
of these productions would be repeated several times, and then some 
one would strike up something that he had "ground out," and the 
others would "catch on." The following I remember to have heard : 

Oh, feed off o' milk-white honey, my Lord; 

Feed off o' milk-white honey; 
Feed off o' milk-white honey, my Lord, 

To de dying Lamb. 

Reconstruction, education and the dying oflF of the old stock has 
caused a material change — perhaps it may be termed an improve- 


In old Potter's Field there were a number of curious inscriptions — 
some cut, others merely painted on a piece of board. Here is one 
that attracted attention for a time, but the board soon rotted away : 

Remember, man, as you pass by. 
As you are now so once was I; 
As I am now so you will be. 
Prepare for death and follow me. 

Some doubter added: 

To follow you I'm not content, 

'Cause I don't know which way you went. 

Hangman's Rope Good for Fits, 

A member of the famous sand-hill clan was hanged for the mur- 
der of one of his neighbors. As he was about to swing off, one of his 
relatives who stood near called out, sufficiently loud to be distinctly 
heard, "Good-bye, Jim; take good care of yourself." Can't say 
whether or not the advice was regarded — he was pronounced dead, 
however, in six minutes. The corpse, with the rope still around 
the neck, was taken possession of by the relatives, who started with 
it for their sand-hill home, but stopped at the grocery of Messrs. 
E. & G. D. Hope, northeast corner of Main and Blanding streets, 
to make a peculiar request. They told Mr. Ed. Hope that a piece 
of the rope that hung a man was good for fits, and that they would 
7 — M 


give him the piece on the body for a bottle of whiskey. Mr. H. 
declined the rope, but gave them the whiskey to get rid of his un- 
welcome visitors. 

Effects of Prayer on a Hard Case. 

One of the same class — McGilberry Goings, by name — was badly 
cut with a knife by a boon companion, and it was thought that he 
would certainly die. His poor old mother appeared on the scene, 
and said to her dissolute son, earnestly, "Pray to God, McGilberry ; 
maybe he'll help you !" The wounded man raised himself with diffi- 
cultv to his knees, and called out: "Lord, this is me, McGilberrv 
Goings. I never asked you for a favor before ; but if you help me 
this time, FU be good." He recovered, but I never heard whether 
the promise was fulfilled. He made a good soldier, and I think a 
Yankee bullet carried him off, as he seems to have dropped out of 

A great many of these sand-hillers were confirmed clay and rotten 
wood eaters; loved whiskey, but cared little for substantial food. 
They volunteered almost to a man, and rendered .efficient service to 
the Confederacy — many of them yielding up their lives. There are 
a few of the descendants of the old stock still left. But the names 
of Medlin, Goings, Boyer and Crummy are seldom heard now-a-days. 

Buried Alive, 

About sixty years ago, Julia, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Barney 
Riley, a stout, healthy girl, was taken ill and apparently died. She 
was buried in St. Peter's Church-yard. About a year afterwards, 
Mary Jane, another daughter, died, and the bereaved parents, as 
they had a large family, decided to have a vault constructed. When 
the receptacle was completed, the two bodies were disinterred and 
put in the vault. The coffin in which Julia's remains had been 
placed was split in two or three places, and on examination the body 
was lying face down. She had evidently been in a trance. 

Husband and Wife Died Same Day. 

In the southeast corner of First Presbyterian Church-yard and in 
Elmwood Cemetery are graves which attract but little attention, and 
their peculiarities are apparently unknown. They are the resting 
places of two couples who died on the same day. In the first, Rev. 
D. E. Dunlap, first pastor of the church, and his wife; in the last. 
Mr. and Mrs. William Fogo, refugees from New Orleans. Mr. L. 
H. Travet, formerly drummer for the Arsenal Guard, died while his 
wife's body was being consigned to the grave. 



''Sashay All! Sashay More!" 

Porter, a bench-legged darkey shoemaker, belonging to Mr. James 
Fenton, and John, a pumpkin-colored harnessmaker, the property 
of Mr. Levi Sherman, and afterwards of Hopson, Sutphen & Co., 
were the principal purveyors of music for the numerous dances in 
and around Columbia — the one with his fiddle and the other with his 
tambourine. It was the custom (and it was a hard matter to dis- 
continue it), to have the "figures" called: "Hands All Round!" 
"Sashay All!" "De Sashay!" "Fore and Back Two!" "Sashay 
More !" Mr. John A. Moore, a lawyer, who had taken up the danc- 
ing fever at a late day, and consequently was not thoroughly versed 
in the meaning of this calling by one or the other of the colored 
musicians, became quite indignant at what he thought was a too 
free use of his name ; so when the set was through with, he went up 
to Porter, and in an angry tone of voice demanded how he dared 
call his name out so publicly, and without "a handle, too." "Why, 
boss," quickly responded the frightened fiddler, "I didn't call your 
name 'tentionally." "Yes, you did. I was sashaying as well as I 
could, and you kept yelling, * Sashay, Moore !* Fm tempted to break 
every bone in your infernal body !" "Jes dis, boss. I mean, 'keep 
on sashaying* till I change the figure," said the excited darkey. Mr. 
M. received the explanation pleasantly, but several who had gathered 
around were much tickled at the affair, and for a long time after- 
wards the young men would speak of him as "Handle Moore." 
Porter "got religion" and when he became a free man, took up his 
residence in Orangeburg. Some time afterwards, I wanted to get 
up an old-fashioned dance, and sent for Porter to come up and play 
for us. He told the messenger that he didn't like to disoblige his 
old friends, but he "done bruck up the fiddle, and was trying to serve 
the Lord." 

In the Arms of Morpheus. 

Away back in the forties, we had two very pretty and stylish girls, 
or young ladies — Harriet and Virginia Sullivan — residing at the 
northwest corner of Main and Richland streets. Their mother was 
left a widow, with three children to support — a boy and two girls ; 
and managed to drive the wolf from the door by keeping a little 
variety store. The girls used their needles to aid the old lady. Har- 
riet was very quiet and retiring in her manner, while Virginia was 
a little inclined to be hoydenish. They were seldom seen apart. 
Balls and dancing parties were not considered complete if the "Sul- 


Hvan girls" were not present, and they were always blessed with 
partners in abundance. At the famous "Citizens' Ball," one night, 
a young man was very persistent in trying to secure a dance, being 
refused several times. He suggested the sixth or seventh cotillions. 
*'I am engaged until the seventeenth set," protested Virginia, pro- 
voked at his persistence. "The seventeenth, Miss Virginia, you will 
be reposing in the arms of Morpheus," was the reply. "I want you 
to understand, sir, that I repose in nobody's arms ; and Fll require 
my brother, Jack, to whip you for your insinuation," said the indig- 
nant young woman. An apology was attempted, but Virginia would 
not listen to him, and walked off indignantly, holding on to the arm 
of her amused partner. 

Undertaker Danced, or Tried To. 

At my wedding — a good many years ago — among the one hun- 
dred and fifty persons present, were two old friends, H. P. Dougal 
and M. II. Berry. A room down stairs had been prepared by Mr. 
McKenzie for the "Stags," while dancing was to be participated in 
by the younger folks. Mr. Dougal divided his time between the 
males below and danced a little above. All of a sudden it struck him 
that his friend Berry had not been on the floor; so he hauled him 
out of a corner and insisted that he should join the dancers. "I 
haven't got on my dancing boots, H. P.," pleaded Mr. B. "Come 
here," was the answer; and before Mr. B. could surmise what he 
was doing, Mr. Dougal had carried him into the hall, removed his 
bo(jts, made his unwilling friend get into them, and then got him 
bark and placed him among the dancers. He went through one set, 
m\\c\\ to the gratification of his jovial friend, who had called up a 
number of the parties from down stairs to "See Berry dance." It 
wHb hib first appearance in that role, and I am sure it was his last. 

Dancing in these Later Times, 

III my y^Mithful days I was a great devotee of Terpsichore, and 
\i'\i\yi'i\ iiihtnu'tion from the most skillful and graceful teachers, 
Mjidfim l'Viif»titt and Mons. Berger, at diflFerent times. Could trip 
",Siiilni't» llnrnpipe/' "Highland Fling," Mazourkas, polkas and all 
llir imu'S ibnu'rH of the day; didn't admire waltzing, but managed 
In tJwiiiK »'>.V jiurtuer. The present style of dancing don't please 
WW llir iiinliiin <»f the arms too much like a pump-handle; besides, 
\\w \'\\\M rxchnn^^f of partners is not agreeable, to say the least. We 
Uhr.l to linvf (WjtillionH, Spanish Dance, polkas, waltzes, winding up 
with lli(* rvrr popular Virginia Reel — and you retained one partner 
to \\\v rnd of the set. 



Starting a Paper Under Difficulties. 

In 1865, I was connected with The South Carolinian office (as I 
had been for twenty-one years previously) ; and after frequent reports 
that were received as to the intentions of "Tecump." and the promises 
made to the soldiers as to the license that would be allowed them 
when they captured the capital of South Carolina, it was decided to 
remove the printing material to the upper part of the State. Mr. 
DeFontaine undertook to manage the job and to look after it when 
it reached its destination. Mr. Timrod and myself remained here 
and issued a * 'thumb-sheet" two or three times a day (not a pleasant 
occupation, with shells dropping in the neighborhood of the build- 
ing) — having retained the small amount of printing material neces- 
sary. Of course, that went up with the building (located on south 
side of Washington street, near Main). The invading army left on 
Monday, the 20th of February, and I immediately began making 
arrangements to get out a publication of some sort. Nothing at all 
in that line was obtainable here, so as soon as the rain ceased and I 
could make some sort of provision for my large family (numbering 
twenty-six souls), I started for the up-country to gather up such 
printing material as I could. With three companions, I footed it — 
leaving Columbia on Sunday, the 26th. We got to Little River that 
afternoon, and felt terribly disappointed in discovering that the 
bridge over that stream had been destroyed. Mr. Henry Leitner, 
who lived a short distance off, suggested that we go to his home 
and remain for the night ; that the river appeared to be falling, and 
it was possible that we could cross Brown's Bridge (a private enter- 
prise, I surmise), four miles further up, the next day, although it 
was now under water. 

Swearers vs. Prayers — The Difference. 

We had a good supper, comfortable beds, substantial breakfast 
and an excellent dinner — having delayed our departure as late as 
possible, hoping that the high water would show an appreciable fall. 
Mr. Leitner accepted a reasonable amount in Confed. currency, and 
sent us on our way rejoicing. I must say, however, that he larded 
his remarks very freely with "cuss words." We found the water 
two or three feet deep at Brown's Bridge, but, like Cousin Sallie 
Dillard, we took off our shoes and socks, elevated our garments, and 
waded across. At night we reached a Mr. McConnell's, near Fresh- 


ley's Ferry. After some persuasion, we were allowed to spread our 
overcoats, shawls and blankets and repose in the main room of the 
building — a colored attendant cutting the necessary wood, for the 
night was very cold. We made ourselves comfortable. For sup- 
per, we had a chapter in the Bible and prayer ; for breakfast, another 
prayer and a selection from the sacred book — ^the proprietor stating 
that the Yankees had robbed him of everything. We tightened up 
waistbands, and started for the supposed ferry. Our darkey joined 
us in the lane, declaring he never had eaten so much in his life in 
two meals. We imparted the information that we were hungry, 
and the reason assigned for it. "Mars. Julian, I didn't believe white 
folks would mistreat one another that way. His niggers told me 
they saved all his provisions by hiding it in the woods. FU go right 
back and get plenty for you." "Not a mouthful," was the unani- 
mous exclamation. We decided that a praying man might be a 
"good" one, but for a square meal, give us a professional "cusser." 
No boat at Freshley's, so struck up the right bank of the river, and 
reached Alston about midday, and there a widow with two children 
took us in and cared for us two days, and would take only five dol- 
lars from each of us. We attempted to pay her more; she would 
not have it — said the Yankees had given her flour and bacon when 
they raided the depot, and she wouldn't charge her people big prices. 
We gave her a couple of blankets, a woolen comforter and several 
other useful articles, when she wanted us to take back the money — 
which, of course, we wouldn't do. 

The river was still out of its banks. The man who owned the 
only boat in the vicinity refused to put us across the river, saying 
it was too dangerous. We offered him $1,000, and then $1,500, 
but he would not sell. We informed him, as we had used every 
proper means to get the use of his boat, we would be compelled to 
"press" it — as it was a matter of necessity to get away from there 
on account of the increasing crowd. Besides, we could see people 
on the other side of the river who evidently wanted to cross. He 
said his double-barrel gun said we couldn't take the boat. Our reply 
was that three Enfield rifles and several pistols said just the oppo- 
site. He drew in his horns. The boat was tied to the bank proper, 
about twenty-five feet out in the water. We fastened three railroad 
sleepers together, and a colored man, who claimed to be a boatman, 
floated down, secured the boat and returned safely. The boat was 
filled with people, and crossed and recrossed several times. I sup- 
pose it was returned, but never heard anything more about it. Mr. 
Bowers, an old railroad employee, took us on his repair train to 


Newberry, where we were the lions of the night — for it was long 
after midnight before we could get through with the anxious inqui- 
rers, as we were the first arrivals from the burnt city. It was gener- 
ally believed that Columbia had been burnt, as there was such a 
brilliant reflection in the sky on the night of the 17th. ' 

Could obtain no printing material in Newberry ; so I struck out 
for Abbeville, where I secured necessary type from Mr. Hugh Wil- 
son, of the Abbeville Banner, on satisfactory terms. Then to Green- 
ville, where paper and ink were obtained. Got material safely to 
Newberry; rode around the country five or six miles looking for a 
team; finally secured one from a Mr. Barr, by paying $1,000 and 
two sacks of salt. Started for Columbia in our heavily-loaded team, 
accompanied by two passengers — Major John Waties and his wife — 
the former seriously wounded. Got bogged in a field trying to get 
around a bad place in the road — had to unload, "pry out" the mules, 
build a causeway with fence rails, working in fully three feet of 
mud, and after ten hours delay, got going again. Neared the river 
Sunday morning, when an old acquaintance (Mr. G. B. Nunamaker) 
appealed to us for something to eat. We divided what we had with 
him (not knowing the condition of things at home), and in return 
he proposed to ferry us over the river in his batteau, which was 
successfully accomplished. A friend who had succeeded in procur- 
ing a horse, lent the use of the animal, and I got home, but so be- 
grimed with mud that my family did not know me. Got washed 
off and into another suit of clothes, returned to the river and worked 
the balance of the day in getting a flat constructed ; gave the parties 
a jug of whiskey to bring my wagon across first, and got over all 
right early Monday morning. 

The next important thing was a press. Looked through the ruins 
of The South Carolinian office, and secured the cylinder of what is 
known as a ready-proof press in fair condition ; made a wooden 
model of the necessary bed, which Mr. Richard Tozer and Mr. 
Robert McDougal cast for me with black lead moulds in brass and 
copper. Hunted and secured glue and molasses, necessary for rol- 
lers; improvised kettles, made the rollers, and on the 21st March, 
1865, issued the first number of The Phoenix. Wm. Gilmore Simms, 
Esq., had charge of the editorial helm ; while Messrs. John A. Elkins, 
W. W. Deane, James H. Diseker, F. H. Marks and Wm. H. Tutt 
(the latter having accompanied me in my peregrinations) set the 
necessary type. Mr. John McKenzie assisted in various ways. Mr. 
Simms picked up a printer's composing stick, and brought it to the 
"office," suggesting that the first lines of the new issue should be set 


up in it, which was done. The little six-by-nine was heartily wel- 
comed. Col. Ruger, of Georgia, was in charge of the post at the 
time, with headquarters on the south side of Washington street, near 
Gates, while The Phoenix was gotten out on the west side of Gates 
street, near Plain. A line of couriers was kept up between this 
point and Augusta, Ga., and by that means Col. R. furnished the 
little sheet with papers and news from the outer world. 

The citizens of Augusta, with their noted liberality, sent a four- 
mule team, loaded with provisions, to the needy people, donating 
both provisions and team. Hearing of a printing press for sale in 
Camden, I secured the use of the team from the Mayor, Dr. Thos. 
J. Goodwyn, with the understanding that a proper guard would be 
provided. This was done, and off we started for Camden, reaching 
that Revolutionary town the same evening. We walked the entire 
distance, hoping to bring down a bird (keeping the team constantly 
in sight, as the boys were returning from the army, and very justly 
were not particular as to whose animals were borrowed), but not a 
feather was to be seen. I bought the press and some other material, 
loaded up at once, camped in a wagon yard, lay awake all night 
under the vehicle, and had several inquirers ; but the muzzles of two 
double-barreled guns drove off the unwelcome visitors. We started 
early the next morning, and had another river experience — this time 
on the Wateree. The flat was not securely tied on reaching the 
opposite bank, and the fore wheels got caught against the muddy 
bank. Our colored driver, Harrington, did the best he could with 
the mules, and a number of individuals, who were anxious to get 
over the river, put their shoulders to the vehicle, but budge it, they 
could not. An interested looker-on, a little colored boy, finally broke 
out : **Uncle, dem mules needs cussin'." "Mv mules knows nothin* 
about cussin*," responded Harrington, indignantly." No, I sees dat,*' 
was the quick reply. "Jes' let me try 'em." After several more 
efforts, with unfavorable results, our driver got down, at my sug- 
gestion, and told the boy to get up, and see what he could do. The 
little imp did so, and in a few seconds he let out such a volley of 
fxpletives that the astonished animals walked right up the bank. 
( )n reaching the top of the cut, Harrington called to the boy sav- 
agttly to get down, which he did at once, but jumped over the other 
nnile, and ran off, screaming with laughter at the disconcerted 
teamster. Harrington growled about the matter the balance of the 
day. We reached Columbia the same night — Tom Beard and myself 
walking the entire distance (twenty-nine good sandy miles) and 
bare-footed at that time, having taken off the heavy boots for a while, 


and the feet having become so swollen that we could not get on the 
necessary appendages again. We pitied the weary mules with their 
heavy load, and lightened it as much as we could by tramping. I 
don't pretend to justify swearing, but it certainly had the desired 
effect in this instance. After the close of the war Tom settled in 
New York and amassed something of a fortune in the drug business. 
Many a time have we talked over our Greenville, Camden and other 
old time matters. He was a Democratic Alderman in Brooklyn, 
New York, for twelve years; was stout and enjoyed excellent health, 
but fell from a trolley car two years ago and was killed. 


Bight Days from Columbia to Philadelphia. 

In June, 1865, I deemed it necessary to go to New York to try 
and obtain printing material. Dr. Gibbes heard of it, and insisted 
that I should take my "smaller half" along, as the travel ( ?) might 
do her good; besides, it was more pleasant and just about as cheap 
as medicine. So with such cash as I could raise, and two watches 
to "spout," if necessary, I determined to go. My wife and six-year- 
old son were bundled into a Jersey wagon, and about 10 o'clock at 
night we started on what proved to be a journey of eight days to 
Philadelphia — seventeen hours covers the time now. Our horse gave 
out, and we hired a four-mule no-spring wagon in Winnsboro to 
convey us to Youngsville ($25 in specie). The team was driven 
rapidly, but we did not catch the train (never had dyspepsia since). 
Spent the afternoon and night in Concord Church — entertained and 
worried by the discussion between the old and young negroes belong- 
ing to a lady in the neighborhood, as to whether they should finish 
cutting the wheat, or leave at once — they had just heard of the eman- 
cipation proclamation, and took advantage of passing showers to 
crowd into the church to talk it over — the old darkies declaring that 
"old miss" had always treated them "mighty good." How it ended 
I never heard. Two nights gone. 

Carried nearly joo Letters. 

We had no mail facilities at the time, so when it was learned of 
our contemplated trip, we were deluged with letters — about 300. 
I had to decline undertaking to carry packages. The cars did not 
run at night, and we could only get to Chester in one day. Then to 
Catawba River, where passengers had to travel down a steep em- 


hankincnt, get through a ploughed field, cross the river on a pon- 
toon bridge, then climb another steep hill, and after an hour's wait, 
be transported slowly to Charlotte, N. C, in a freight car, with a 
bailly worn wheel. All night in Charlotte — night fourth. 

Next day reached Greensboro and quartered in the cars as best 
we Ci>uld for the night. The stations were all crowded with Federal 
suldicrs going home to be disbanded. Night No. 5. Next day made 
I )auville. There met Josh. Johnston, son of my former employer, 
Mr. VV. B. Johnston, who invited us to supper with him. I declined, 
telling him we had supplied ourselves with necessaries, and it was 
iijiclcHS to spend his money. "Spend my money!" he exclaimed; 
"iK»t a bit of it — Vm telegraphing for Uncle Sam." "Why, Josh," 
I siiid; "I thought you were too good a Confed. to take the oath." 
\t> uath about it," he answered warmly; "they needed telegraph 
i>lH*rHtc)rs — Yank, or Confed.; didn't say anything about the oath, 
ami urt'crc<l $^0 a week and board. I was sick and lame, had my 
pii\, tifty cents, and jumped at the offer, and that's all there is to it, 
i\v ci>l we've g<.)t a jolly set of boys, have good meals and comfort- 
hMv quarters, luring your wife and child and come to supper with 
uu- tliev'll all be delighted." We went. The table was filled with 
u U'ifeiiaph men. who were just as pleasant as Hhey could possibly be, 
ami iu,»ii>ited on waiting on us — the wife reminded one of a sister, 
auv'lUei an aunt, and as far as the child, he seemed to be a remem- 
l»iamei (or all of them. Presently one of the men whispered some- 
ibiuK U» jo»h. and the latter inquired if I had a "pass." "No," I 
lel^lied. luefully; "didn't know one was needed." "I mean a rail- 
unmI |»aMM." "No/' I answered. With that one of the "Yanks" 
K it ihe labU* hurriedly, and before we finished our pleasant meal 
waM Iwuk Ujjfuin. and handed me a pass for myself, wife and child, 
V Uhei lo Uiehnumd or City Point, signed by the General in com- 
mand I thanked the young men heartily and returned to the cars, 
lv» jiawM live sixth night. Our party of Confeds. by this time num- 
beied eiKbl ^»^* ten, a lady or two among them, getting back to Vir- 
kiUUa. I Kot into conversation with a young Sergeant from Wis- 
voiiMUi. and as the soldiers outside wanted to crowd in, the Sergeant 
•n^K'.esled that I should lie across one door and keep out the John- 
me.M, while he would tajce the other and keep out the Yanks. I knew 
mv n»l» would not be a difficult one. While we could hear con- 
^ideiiible profanity and a good deal of growling, we had very little 
liouhle duritig the night. Twice parties got in at the windows, but 
ihe W'iseMUsian told them they must get out, as he had charge of 
the ladies. Something was said about rebels; but the plucky fellow 


succeeded in hustling them out — saying he had fought four years 
against the men, but if it became necessary he would fight for the 
women on this occasion. That argument was unanswerable. 

We left the next morning on a literally packed train — ^Josh and 
several of his companions coming down to see us off. (I will here 
say that the Johnston family has been literally wiped out ; they in- 
herited consumption from their mother.) When the conductor 
looked at my pass, he said he was sorry to say that he would have 
to collect fare — that General Somebody's name should have been on 
it. I told him how I came to have the document, and he replied that 
he regretted it exceedingly. I then asked him to come to me again ; 
that I would get the money out of my belt, and pay him. He didn't 
return, and I didn't hunt him up. The train slowed up at Burkes- 
ville, and I told the ''wee wifie" to go over to the other train with 
the boy and I would try and get the trunk. This I succeeded in 
doing — a train hand transferring it for me — and I saw nothing more 
of the avaricious conductor, for such I believe he was. We safely 
reached the Petersburg train; soon moved off, and the conductor 
came along, honored my *'pass," and said in a jolly way : "Rebs, eh ! 
Well, I fought you fellows hard; it's all over now; my brakeman 
is a reb ; as soon as I take up my tickets we'll go and have a drink 
in my caboose." Sure enough, he came back pretty soon, bringing 
his rebel brakeman, and we adjourned to his quarters. He pre- 
sented me with a bottle of what proved to be really fine whiskey, 
and when the train reached Petersburg, gave us a hearty hand-shake 
and left, while we continued to City Point, nine miles below, situated 
on an elevation over the James River. After a slow ride, in a long 
train filled with soldiers, we reached City Point station in a hard 
rain. I went out and attempted to secure our trunk, but was unsuc- 
cessful, being informed that baggage would not be unloaded that 
night. Returned to the car and found the soldiers growling about 
a woman and child being in the way — that they wanted to get ready 
to sleep. I started out with my wife and boy, when a gruff but 
kind-hearted officer followed us to the door, and directed us to go 
to the apology for a hotel on the elevation at the left ; to describe our 
baggage, and he would try and have it sent up. I thanked him, and 
we proceeded to climb an everlasting flight of steps, finally reaching 
the top. It was an apology for a hotel, sure enough — one of those 
traps that could be pulled down and re-erected at short notice. In 
about half an hour, I heard scuffling of feet, and a voice saying, 
"Here's a trunk for a rebel." I went forward and claimed it, and 
requested that it be put in our room, which was promptly done by the 


four men. I asked them to take a drink from the conductor's bot- 
tle, which they did, and praised it highly, saying soldiers seldom 
got hold of hquor like that. As they were about to leave, one of 
the men asked me when we expected to leave, and I said, by the first 
boat in the morning. Much to my surprise, he replied, "All right ; 
we'll come for your trunk in time.'' We retired and passed a plea- 
sant night (No. 7). Sure enough, the whistle of the approaching 
steamboat had just been heard, when our obliging soldiers came 
in, picked up the trunk and started for the landing, we following as 
closely as possible. The heav>^ trunk was put aboard, and then I 
thanked the bearers and offered them another drink, which they 
refused politely; the tender of money was declined, they touched 
their caps and retired. 

The steamboat, like the cars, carried a number of soldiers, but 
they were not interested about sleeping quarters, so did not come in 
contact with them. The eighth night was spent comfortably, and 
we passed through Baltimore in the morning, and then on to Phila- 
delphia, where we arrived about 3 o'clock in the day. At the hotel, 
a waiter piloted us up one flight of stairs, and was about to take the 
second, when objection was made about going so high to sleep. The 
waiter carelessly said, "Where you come from?" I replied, "South 
Carolina ;" when his tone changed ; he invited us into a parlor, then 
hurried down stairs, and in a few minutes up came the smiling land- 
lord, and assigned us quarters on the parlor floor. 

Arriving in New York the next day, I was forcibly struck with 
the changes and improvements in the great city — hadn't put in an 
appearance there since 1859; and we had a good opportunity of 
seeing, as we rode up to Harlem in a carriage. Will jump de- 
scription, as it has become ancient history almost. I had a number 
of slaps, "Hanging Jeff Davis on a sour apple tree, ' "rebel," etc. 

Wouldn't Exchange Old Shoes for Nezc Ones, 

We went into a shoe store to procure a pair of protectors for the 
little wife's feet. On removing the ungainly leather coverings, the 
shoeman was struck with their appearance, and inquired where they 
were obtained. "They were made in South Carolina," my wife 
replied. "Madam, if you will let me have these, I will give you in 
exchange the finest pair of shoes I have in the store," said the inqui- 
sitive dealer. "No, sir ; I'll do no such thing," and she paid $5 for 
the new ones, carrying the old ones proudly away. "Why didn't 
you let him have them?" I inquired. "I wasn't going to let him put 
my shoes in his window, marked 'Rebel woman's shoes,' " was her 


indignant reply. Through Benjamin Wood, Esq., and William Con- 
nor, Esq., the type manufacturer, I obtained necessary material and 
started on my homeward journey highly elated at my success. 

I secured passage on the little steamship, Granada, and got on the 
good side of Capt. Baxter, who declared that my wife reminded 
him so greatly of a dead daughter that he could scarcely keep his 
eyes off her. We had the first mate's state-room on deck, and Capt. 
B. had his station a few feet off. He would forget himself and use 
"swear words," then turn and apologize to his "daughter," as he 
called her ; but would soon forget again. 

When we reached the wharf at Charleston, the old city presented 
a picture of desolation. It was the 4th of July. One carriage and 
one dray were the only vehicles to transport about 200 passengers 
with their baggage. I recognized the drayman as an express mes- 
senger, and he directed me to go to the "Waverley House," as the 
"Charleston Hotel" was filled to overflowing, and he would get our 
trunk to us after a while. We tramped off. The cobble-stones on 
the Bay had been taken up and used on the fortifications, and not 
a human being to be seen in that street or vicinity. When we reached 
King street, a company of colored zouaves marched gaily along. 
I'll admit that I felt depressed. After supper, I took a short stroll, 
and found any quantity of handsome ( ?) waiter-girls, of the "Dew 
Drop Inn" and "Canterbury Hall" style. 

The next morning, we boarded the cars for Orangeburg, and 
found we were about the only white passengers, and they made 
things lively. Conductor Kennedy tried unsuccessfully to quiet 
them, but had to "grin and bear it." They did not seem to be vici- 
ously inclined — merely spiritually impregnated. 

At Orangeburg I secured vehicles, but was compelled to pay $25 
for passage for myself, wife and child, and $8 for the trunk. It 
took us just twenty- four hours to make the trip, but we arrived in 
Columbia all right. When I heard some time afterwards that Jona- 
than Dark, the livery man and "sport," had been "thoroughly 
squeezed" in Union through thin slices of cork used for "coppers," 
that could be easily blown off when they were not in the proper 
place, I slightly rejoiced, as I felt he was getting paid back for his 
$25 extortion. I pawned a watch in New York for $100, but was 
able to return the money at once by my old friend, Capt. Thos. W. 
Radcliffe — my share of the receipts of the "mutual benefit" having 
gone a little over a "century" during the time I was off. Notwith- 
standing our terribly long journey, no ill effects were experienced 
bv any of the trio. 



Tide Stationary for Four Days, 

In July, 1886, I had determined to print an afternoon paper on a 
small scale in Charleston, and for five weeks did remarkably well, 
subscribers and daily sales increasing satisfactorily. The premoni- 
tary shocks of earthquake in the neighborhood of Summerville, of 
which I had been informed by a gentleman from there, had been 
ridiculed by the News and Couirer; but they sent a man up, who 
came back and declared that it was more severe than had been re- 
ported. This may seem like ancient history, as it occurred nineteen 
years ago; but several circumstances happened which I have never 
seen referred to, so I give them. 

Scenes and Incidents. 

On Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights, the display of meteors 
was truly wonderful — they were flying in every direction. Sunday 
night I was at Sullivan's Island and there was nothing to obstruct 
the view, and it was simply grand. On Tuesday night, the 31st 
of August, at 9.55, there was a terrible shake and buildings were 
damaged in every direction. I was located on east side Meeting 
street, near Queen, and the first shock threw down one or two 
columns in front of Hibernian Hall, which created such a terrible 
dust, that I could not see, and instead of running over to the Mills 
House, where we were quartered (my wife, daughter Maggie and 
son Gilbert), that I got twisted and ran down Meeting street. Just 
then came the second, and I got a portion of the debris in my face 
and on my body, and down I came across the railroad track. I could 
only have been laid out a few seconds, when I was lifted up by 
a tall gentleman, who escorted me towards the sidewalk, where we 
tripped over the fallen telegraph and telephone wires. He stood 
me up and I told him I thought I could navigate, when he left me. 

My family gathered on the open lot on northeast corner of Queen 
and Meeting streets, where several of our carriers soon joined us 
and stuck there the rest of the night. Fire had been discovered 
in several rooms in the Mills House, caused by lamps being upset. 
My son and myself ran up through the rooms and with any water 
or means accessible, extinguished the incipient flames. We found 
that parties were removing their furniture from this lodging house, 
when our carriers proflFered their assistance, and in an astonishingly 
short space of time they had our three rooms emptied. The willing 
darkies returned to the square and there remained. 


Said it Felt Like an Earthquake, 

An elderly white man, who was evidently a watchman, had a room 
in the yard in the rear of our office, where he took snatches of sleep. 
He often passed through the office, and my daughter would give 
him exchange papers, which gratified him very much apparently. 
That day, I happened to see him, and he casually remarked, "If I 
was in my country, I would think there was going to be an earth- 
quake." "Why," was my inquiry. "Oh, I feel it in the air," he 
replied. That night I was moving around, and I came across him. 
"I was hunting for you. Where are the ladies? I am making 
some biscuit, cooking some meat and making coffee for them." I 
thanked him and showed him where our folks were. He told them 
to wait a little and he would bring them some supper. "Are you 
not afraid to go in the house?" inquired my wife, earnestly. He 
smiled quietly and replied : "I use to earthquake all my life." And 
he soon returned with a waiter, covered with a clean cloth, and the 
necessary viands. I offered him a dollar, and he gave that peculiar 
smile again, and said : "The ladies kind to me, I kind to dem." He 
waited and carried awav the dirtv dishes. 

Thought It zi'as the Last Great Day, 

There were seven fires in different sections of the city, and I tried 
to think of everything I could in Revelation to help me in my sur- 
mise that it was the grand wind-up. I went to but one fire, and 
that was in King street, near Broad, and saw several firemen thrown 
from the ladders, but none of them seriously hurt. Chief O'Neale 
drove from one outbreak to another, and succeeded in holding all 
in check except the lower King street, and that was confined to two 
buildings. These men surely are entitled to valuable consideration. 

I had contracted the habit of using a cant expression of doubtful 
propriety, borrowed from an old gentleman from Maine a short 
time before that. He would tell some wonderful stories of occur- 
rences in his northern section of this great country, and if any one 
should express doubt, or ask him to repeat what he had said, he 
would look around, apparently surprised at the doubter, and add, 
"H it aint so, Fll go through hell a hopping!" and that settled it. 
I had foolishly been using the expression on account of its origi- 
nality. Have never done it since. Among my other hurts, my hip 
pained me, and caused me to limp. "Going through hell a hop- 
ping !" rung in my ears. To add to the disagreeable feeling, I went 
into Meyers' saloon, northeast corner of Meeting and Chalmers 
streets, and called for brandy and soda, an expensive drink, which 


was furnished. I laid down a half dollar, when the proprietor 
looked at me, then at the coin, and said, in a dolorous tone of voice, 
"We not take no money to-night/' I nearly collapsed. 

Miraculous Preservation of a Train, 

An excursion train was rushing towards the city, and when near 
where the terrible curves in the railroad track, which meant disaster 
and death to hundreds, it was flagged down by a colored man, who 
could not be found afterwards. The passengers soon raised a sub- 
stantial purse for their deliverer, but as "Simon Suggs'' said with 
reference to "Yellowlegs," "the critter had evaporated." 

The dew was so heavy for several nights, that the dampness went 
through umbrellas as if they were sieves. 

First Positive Information in Columbia. 

The telegraph wires were down in every direction; but I had an 
intimation that the Southern expected to be ready for work in the 
morning. I stood from 11 P. M. until 7 A. M. and succeeded in 
getting the first message through to Columbia. A thoughtless 
woman told my wife that a message had been received, saying that 
Columbia was wiped out. The "vrow" took it very coolly, saying 
her husband was waiting now at the corner of Chalmers and Church 
streets, she understood, to get a dispatch through as soon as the office 
opened in the morning. 

On Wednesday night, at a late hour, a voice was heard in rear 
of the open square between the City Hall and the Fire-proof build- 
ing: "My friends, I have studied these seismic troubles thoroughly, 
and I assure you that you can go to your homes and beds and rest 
quietly. I doubt if there will be any more of these disturbances; 
but if there should, it will not be before this time to-morrow." He 
had just got that far, when the famous rumbling noise was heard 
in the West, and a first class shock followed. "Hatig the d — d 
cuss !" was the response of several parties ; but the scientist disap- 
peared over a back fence and was heard of no more. 

A friend invited me to go with him, get a drink and visit some 
of the other camps ; and a queer sight it was, you may rest assured — 
babies asleep in carriages, with umbrellas and other improvised cov- 
erings; delicate females walking around disconsolately, and men 
trying to be philosophical, but a muttered damn would escape occa- 
sionally, and the dew was wetting everything. 

Mr. Leiding, the Hasel street merchant, was taking a bath when 
the trouble began. He did not take time to consider, but grabbed 
his silk hat and gold-headed cane (recently presented by his em- 


ployees) and rushed into the street (similar case described in Mark 
Twain's "Roughing It"). It is said he met a gentleman and some 
ladies, raised his hat and was about to proceed further, when he was 
informed of his unpresentable condition. He disappeared. In a 
dwelling on the Battery, which was thrown out of plumb, neither 
doors nor windows could be opened, and a courting couple who 
were terribly frightened, reposed in one another's arms — ^the male 
in trying to open a window, got his hands into a vase of water, 
screamed to his inamorita, "My dear, it's a tidal wave — let's die in 
each other's arms." Parties succeeded in opening the door from 
the outside, and brought in candles, when the surprised parties 
sneaked out. 

Too Busy to Attend to His Injuries. 

My friend's invitation to take a drink resulted in our finding an 
Italian's place open on the north side of Market street. His head 
and shirt bore indications of bloody work having been done. I 
asked him the cause, saying I didn't think you'd fight at such a time 
as this. "No; de earthquake," was his reply. "But there have 
been no shocks to-night," I said. "No, I got it last night, when the 
ceiling fall." He had been so anxious to make money, that al- 
though twenty-six or eight hours had elapsed since he was hurt, he 
couldn't take time to have his wounds dressed. 

Sudden Death of a Charitable Man, 

A stout, hearty man, whose sobriquet was King (but it was gene- 
rally thought it was assumed), who had a saloon on King street, 
near Market, seemed perfectly cool, made no braggadocio about not 
being afraid, etc., but told the police officers that anybody who 
needed food or drink, and no money to pay for it, were invited to 
call at his place and get it as long as it lasted. King's nervous 
system must have been terribly worked up, for he was found dead 
in his bed a few days afterwards. 

Steamers Kept Fires "Banked" 

Nearly all the steamers in port had their holds thoroughly scoured 
and white-washed, and notified the city authorities that as many 
parties as so desired would be housed. It was understood that fires 
were kept "banked" in anticipation of the dreaded tidal wave which 
had decimated Lisbon and Caracas. I found quarters on the tramp 
steamer "Amethyst," and the next night I was complaining about 
my bones sticking through, when one of the watch offered me his 
bunk, as he was on duty all night — 2l custom in port, I believe. I 
8 — M 


determined to take the chances of other disagreeable occupants, and 
turned in. About daylight, I was aroused by muttered conversa- 
tion to the effect that "the water was out." I was much excited for a 
time, but found the crew took it coolly — ^so I simmered down. The 
tide had been stationary for four days. Many of the crew had 
visited all parts of the world, but this was the first time they ever 
heard of such a thing. Capt. Vogel, of the Jacksonville steamer, 
afterwards reported that on his way down there was a terrible dis- 
turbance of the water some miles off; his belief was that a heaw^ 
outgoing tide met the incoming, and by Providential means broke its 
power. I don't give this as anything more than my own idea. When 

I heard the expressions about the water being out, I took it to mean 
that a careless fireman had neglected to watch the supply of water 
in his boilers. I spent one night in the passenger cars at the North- 
eastern Railroad, but never want such another experience on ac- 
count of the terrible mosquitoes. 

A bar-room, corner of Unity alley and Bay street, was keeled com- 
pletely to one side, and looked as if it would fall momentarily. A 
thirsty mortal went in, notwithstanding repeated warnings of the 
danger. His reply was: "I am just dying for a drink, and am 
going to have it." He'd die happy, then, sure. 

A friendly pilot informed me that he was keeping "open house" 
on Broad street, and invited me to walk in and take a "nip." The 
front of the house had fallen out, and a bed-room and dining-room 
were freely exposed. 

Wind Taken Out of Smartey's Sails. 

A natty-looking individual arrived at the Charleston Hotel about 

II o'clock one night, where a party of us were congregated exchang- 
ing reminiscences. The streets being dark, he could see nothing 
of the destruction on his way. He seemed disposed to be smart, and 
jocularly remarked, "Been having a little shake here, eh ! Guess it 
wasn't much." Just then came the premonitary rumble, and the 
assembly departed for the street. "When's the next train for the 
North ?" excitedly demanded Mr. Smartey. "One o'clock," he was 
informed, and he departed by it. 

Only Slight Shocks Since. 

There have been several shocks at different times since the me- 
morable 1886 'quake, but no loss was reported. It is to be hoped 
that the seismic troubles have finally been settled. The inhabitants 
are perfectly willing. 



Commanders Somewhai Alike. 

During the "red-shirt" occupancy of our city and surrounding 
country in 1876, quiet was maintained and outbreaks prevented by 
the persistent and incessant efforts of Generals Wade Hampton and 
M. C. Butler— of course, as was generally conceded, through the 
will of Divine Providence. The thieves had the aid of the United 
States soldiers, but the good people of the State won the fight. The 
cases are not exactly parallel, but it reminded me forcibly of a 
reported conversation between pickets the night before the battle of 
New Orleans: "Hello, Yank!" called one of the Johnny Bulls. 
"Hello, yourself!" was the answer. "We're going to clean you up 
to-morrow. We've got on our side Lords Packenham, Keane, 
Gibbes and Major Wilkinson, with the flower of the British army." 
"Guess not. Bull. We've got on our side Lord God Almighty, Lord 
Jesus Christ, Old Hickor>' Jackson, Generals Carroll, Adair, Coflfin, 
Morgan and Col. Wade Hampton, with the Kentucky Riflemen, and 
we are sure to lick you/' was the response of the confident Yank. 

Through Providential aid and the uncommon attention, thought- 
fulness, sleeplessness and sense of Generals Hampton and Butler, 
backed up by the invincible "red-shirts," the enemy were overawed 
and defeated, and a bloodless battle won. Ex-Governor Chamber- 
lain is pleasantly received whenever he puts in an appearance here, 
"By-goncs are b}'-gones." The ex-CV^r. d/r/n't carry this <mt fully, 
as he has mounted a wig. 

Would Eat Crackers and Cheese /'mi. 

During the red-shirt campaign, <Air oUl and |;i*tri«;ti«* ftit^nd, 
Abram Stork, had his handb full, lih r*^t>iHittiiui w«a |w< l***d with 
the "shirts" at all hours^ a«d, of o>»ur>«r, tlMT** w«i» u «l«al nf wuititig. 
Some one asked if there wab n<A ^n^Ai^r r*'i>iuutuui in fi;w». "Y*'*/' 
was the reply of a neighV/r; "Fin«r'^, 'l«/wn «/m tiM- ntiii nijiittr*;/' 
"Go in that Radical pla^;^," wa^ iJu- Hhtwrt «;| ytfun^ Ijliiiw, of Nttw- 
bem^: "ITl eat cra'ikfrrt *n<J «luv«'&«* Uthi** AI;miii ovirhrttrd it, 
and directed the dibgruTriVJ ;.'/ijrij/4ii/ j i/; vy>4lt nj/lH Im* U li«* bliould 
have breakfast at ^/nrr. zuA li« j/'/i i\ 

''Hold fhf /'^/tr TuhlUh Tiiii^^ 

During the jc/irrt v/ut/^ti'y '/> iIk Uvuc*- n\ l*i:[t}iibcu{M'\y^^ l/y 
the Wallace ^'vr J>tf*'^rvu<y nii»ij|/i.»» ni^^ iUu Mf^^kcyitcb^ of 


course, no actual business was done. Mr. Arthur Glover, of Edge- 
field (of the famous Glover-Gomillion vendetta), stalked around, 
loaded down with three heavy repeaters, to look after Ed. Mackey 
in case of trouble, while a big black man, apparently similarly 
equipped, lounged about, prepared for Speaker Wallace. Every- 
body felt as if there was bound to be an explosion of some sort at 
any minute. On the particular night referred to, one of the colored 
members addressed Speaker Mackey as to a question of privilege. 
"State your question," was the reply. "I wanted to ask, as long as 
we are 'holding the fort,' if we could sing a campaign song, 'Hold 
the Fort for Hayes and Wheeler?'" "No!" "No!" and hisses 
came from the Republican side, the Democrats remaining mute. 
The song was feebly sung, with constant interruptions. 

On its conclusion, Mr. James Callison, of Edgefield, jumped to 
his feet and addressed Speaker Wallace to this effect, "It is cus- 
tomary in a minstrel show to have a jig dance after a song. If not 
out of order, I would ask that that part of the programme be carried 
out." This proposition was answered with laughter and groans. 
But the incident was closed there. 

Wouldn't Pay Taxes to Support Radicals. 

The recent death of Mr. John Myers, of the Hopkins' Turnout 
section, brings to mind the fact of his persistent refusal to pay taxes 
on his large amount of real estate situated in that vicinity. He is 
said to have sworn not to buy a new hat or pay taxes until the Radi- 
cal power was broken, and he didn't. When the Hampton Govern- 
ment was recognized, Mr. Myers came to Columbia, paid his back 
taxes, bought him the latest style "tile," and returned home. 
There were a number of others who forcibly resisted deprivation of 
their property by the thieves. 

Didn't Want to Help the Undertakers, 

An inoffensive, garrulous old gentleman from New Jersey, 
bought several pieces of property at tax sales, and contrary to the 
advice of a legal gentleman who knew the dispositions of some of the 
to-be disfranchised owners, he went down to get possession of his 
property, as he supposed it to be. At two places he was met with 
loaded guns, and an intimation that he had better "git," or he might 
be carried off. Mr. B. went back to the officials and demanded his 
money, saying he was not disposed to help the undertakers. The 
money was returned. 



Licked But Didn't Know It, 

Gen. Samuel McGowan was on detached service at the First 
Manassas battle and rout. After the Federals were panic-stricken 
and in full retreat, Gen. M. and two or three others rode over to the 
left some distance, when they discovered a body of fully ten thousand 
apparently fresh Yankee troops, who it was thought intended to 
attack the pursuing Confederates in the rear. One of the party 
galloped back in search of Gen. Beauregard, to report the matter to 
him, but he could not be found for some time — ^the information, it 
appears, had been communicated to the General. Soon afterwards 
the ten thousand fresh men were "taken with a leaving" and rapidly 
disappeared — ^the panic was contagious. This had nothing to do 
with stopping the pursuit of the flying enemy to Washington, how- 
ever. The Confederates were "done up" from heat and fatigue, and 
could by no means have traveled over the twenty-two miles to the 
Capitol City. Gen. McGowan came through Columbia on his way 
home after the battle and made a speech from the piazza of Hunt's 
Hotel (where the Y. M. C. A. building now stands), in which he said 
the Confederates were whipped up to 12 o'clock, but they did not 
know it, and so the fight went on. 

''All's Weir— Happy Omen. 

Col. Joseph Daniel Pope addressed the large assemblage the same 
night. In one of his beautiful delineations, he exclaimed, "Watch- 
man, what of the night?" and paused for a few seconds; just then 
the steepleman in the tower attached to the City Hall, called the 
quarter-hour, "All's well!" "Happy omen," said Mr. Pope, and 
concluded his remarks. 

Knew What Baby Food Was. 

Jeweler George Bruns during a lull in the fight at Spottsylvania, 
secured a haversack filled with substantial food. The fight was 
renewed, and George soon was severely wounded in the leg. Hos- 
pital accommodations were scarce, and the surgeons were forced to 
operate on the field. He was laid upon the ground, and his haver- 
sack utilized as a pillow. After the leg was amputated, he felt 
hungry, and requested that his knapsack be used for a pillow, so 
that he could sample the contents. A surgeon complied with the 
request, and George tackled some hard tack and ham, but he was 
weak from loss of blood, and his jaws refused to do their work. 


"Dr.," he said to his attendant, "I think I'm bad off." "No," was 
the reply ; "you are doing well — I'll soon fix you." "Cavis," called 
out the kindly-disposed surgeon, "take some of this hard tack and 
fix it according to my directions." Julian went off but soon re- 
turned with a mess which the wounded soldier pronounced the nicest 
thing he had ever tasted. The "tack" had been soaked in hot water, 
salted, then well buttered with a piece of fat bacon. The way I 
heard of it was, through my telling George, on one occasion, that I 
was going home to eat baby food, and suggested that he would not 
appreciate it, after telling how it was prepared — "Huh! bet I do," 
and then told this experience. The wounded man had not yet been 
removed from the improvised operating spot when John Renno came 
along, inquired as to his condition, and as to whom he should 
write, brought out his improvised writing materials and communi- 
cated with Bruns' family. The wounded soldier recovered, and is 
muchly alive; but his chums, Julian Cavis and John Rernio, have 
joined the great army beyound. 

Recognizing a Good Samaritan Enemy. 

Wm. C. Anderson served during the war, and for a length of time 
acted as courier. On one of his rides during the heat of the day on a 
lonely Virginia road, he heard cries for "Water" proceeding from a 
fence corner. He rode up to the spot and found a wounded Yankee, 
who was suffering for want of the fluid. Willie emptied the con- 
tents of the canteen into the soldier's vessel, gave him what he had 
in his haversack, broke off several branches of neighboring trees to 
protect him from the hot rays of the sun, and rode rapidly away, to 
make up for lost time. About two years after hostilities had ceased, 
Anderson went to New York, and one day, while standing in front 
of the St. Nicholas Hotel counter, a man strolled in, looked at him 
on one side and then went round on the other. "I hope you'll know 
me when you see me again," was Will's sharp interrogation. 
"You're a reb," was the response. "Well, what of it?" Anderson 
replied. "Just this much," answered the stranger, putting forth 
both hands ; "there is no one in this world I would rather see. Do 
you remember, on the 20th of June, 1864, relieving a wounded 
Yankee soldier in a fence corner in Virginia — giving him your can- 
teen of water, emptying your haversack, and cutting branches of a 
tree to protect him from the sun ?" "Well, I have done such things," 
said Bill. "I'm one of those individuals, and you must go home 
with me at once to see my old mother, who has prayed for you every 
night since." 


After some little remonstrance, Anderson accompanied the man ; 
but they had a hard time getting to the residence, for they stopped 
in several saloons, where the ex-soldier told of the affair, and every- 
body wanted to treat the *'rebel." On their arrival at the home of 
his gratified acquaintance, the old mother kissed and squeezed him to 
such an extent that he declared his clothes slackened on him. He 
couldn't get away for several weeks, and then only on the promise 
of visiting them again soon. A liberal amount of funds was offered 
for his acceptance, which Anderson positively refused. Finally, he 
accepted a horse, which was much ridiculed for his looks, but his 
stride was wonderful. Poor Anderson took cold at a fair in Char- 
lotte, which fell on his lungs, consumption developed, and he died in 
a few months — well cared for by his friends. 

''Asa Hartz^^^A Rhymster, 

Maj. Enoch George McKnight, who made something of a reputa- 
tion at Johnson's Island, Lake Erie, during the war (the scene of 
the famous prize fight between John C. Heenan and John Morrisey, 
in which the former broke his hand and succeeded in breaking 
Morrissey's nose), by his amusing poetic and prose letters over the 
signature, ''Asa Hartz," addressed to "Jack o' Diamonds; my Left 
Bower." I only remember two lines of an appeal he addressed to 
the Federal Commissioner of Exchange : 

And haven't you a Federal Maje, 
Who's suffering in some Dixie cage? 

The appeal was in such an amusing strain that orders came to 
release Major McKnight, and George went on his way rejoicing. 
His health was completely broken down by his confinement on 
Erie's bleak island, and he died soon after he reached his adopted 
home in New Orleans. "Asa" was a fellow-apprentice in The South 
Carolinian office. As a youngster, he was famous for his rhyming. 
His father was a crusty old codger, without a grain of sentiment. 
George had his rhyming machine in order one day and produced 
several samples — on names of the office boys, etc. — which were very 
clever. He then scribbled the following lines, and handed them 
politely to his father : 

Father, when I'm dead and gone. 

And the sun shines o'er me bright, 
Just drop, if you should pass along, 

A tear for George McKnight. 

The old man looked over his spectacles at him for a few seconds, 
hit him a clip over the head, with the exclamation, "Go to your 
work, you lazy rascal," and resumed his type-setting. 


George's remains repose in Greenwood Cemetery, New Orleans. 
He served in a Louisiana Regiment. 

Reasons for Not Paying Debts. 

George's ideas of meum and teum were like some others in this 
world. On the well remembered 15th of April, 1849, when we had 
quite a fall of snow, the poor fellow came around to see me, rigged 
in a linen suit, without socks or under-clothing. My mother noticed 
this omission and spoke to him about it. "All I got," was his reply. 
Addressing me, she suggested that as a certain suit of clothes was 
too small for me, that I had better sell the articles to George at a low 
figure. A bargain was struck, and the boy was rigged out with a 
complete suit, including socks. He was to pay a certain amount 
every week until the debt was wiped out. Two years elapsed with- 
out any payment being made, when one day I reminded him that the 
clothes had never been paid for. He gave me a quizzical look, and 
replied : "You must think Tm a blamed fool ; I never pay live people, 
and the dead don't need it." 

Negro Jails Not Interfered With, 

It was believed that the Federal soldiers were interested in the 
freedom of the slaves, and aided them in many ways. It is true, 
quite a number of the would-be freedmen joyfully followed the 
army, but the majority repented, and tried to get back. I met a 
number of them at the North during a business trip in June, 1865, 
and at different times later on, all of whom regretted leaving, and 
used every means possible to get South again — many even walked 
back. One poor fellow offered to give any kind of paper, that he 
would serve me all his life, if I would only take him home. Strange 
to say, although Sherman's men — ^bummers, we'll call them — de- 
stroyed property indiscriminately, they surely spared two "nigger 
jails," as they were termed, and they are standing to this day. And 
I know of one case, at least, where a black man who, it was said, 
used some insulting remarks to a Yankee soldier, was shot dead 
on the spot. Gen. Sherman passed at the time and inquired into the 
matter; his comment was to the effect that his men were excited. 
"Bury him in a hurry, boys ; don't be so brash another time." And 
the murdered colored citizen was buried on the southwest corner of 
the Bull and Lumber street lot. 

Laboring Under Disadvantages, 
Vim and energy will accomplish wonders. Dick Clark, a gallant 


North Carolinian, went into the army at the age of fifteen, and 
after a few months was discharged ; went home, spent a month and 
then returned to the front. He was wounded two or three times, 
but not seriously until two weeks before the surrender, when he lost 
a leg — ^the limb being taken from the socket. Poor Dick could 
neither read nor write — having worked in the field until he was of 
school age (which used to be considered in the country sixteen 
years), when he went forth to fight the battles of his country. As 
soon as he was able he set to speculating with a slim capital, and 
was successful. He opened a grocery store in a small way at the 
northeast corner of Washington and Assembly streets, and by look- 
ing carefully after the pennies, the dollars began to accumulate. 
He would sell tea, coffee, butter, etc., by the nickle's worth, and as 
he stood well with the merchants, and could order in limited quan- 
tity, he was not forced to carry an expensive stock. He invested in 
real estate after a time, and at his death had accumulated in the 
neighborhood of $40,000 — a comfortable sum for his widow. This 
shows what perseverance can accomplish. He was hospitable in 
every sense of the word. 

What's In a Name? 

"Cicero Deo Demosthenes Plato Kelly" was the name given to a 
child by his proud parents — evidently with the supposition that he 
would be an only son. Others arrived in due time, but all the names 
were allowed to remain. The boys simply called him "Jim." On 
one occasion, while on picket duty in Virginia, and becoming lone- 
some (Corporal Tom Harper having forgotten to send a relief), 
the owls disturbed him with their "Who! who! whoopee?" Kelly 
misunderstood the voices of the night-birds and thought it was an 
inquiry as to who he might be. "Jim Kelly, of South Carolina," he 
yelled. "Who in the devil are you?" Jim never forgave Corporal 
Tom for the lonesome watch he caused him to have on that occa- 
sion. Jim died about a year ago. 

"Very Undignified, Capt, Kemper. 

When hostilities began, the talented lawyer, Maxcy Gregg, Esq., 
volunteered — receiving one appointment after another until he be- 
came a General. Capt. Del Kemper, of Alexandria, Va., with his 
fine artillery company, was attached to Gen. Gregg's command. At 
the battle near Vienna, a railroad train loaded with Federal soldiers 
was heard approaching, and Kemper was ordered to give them a 
warm reception, which he did. At every discharge of his guns, the 


Alexandrian would throw himself on the ground and shout lustily. 
Gen. Gregg rode by and observing Capt. Kempfer's effusiveness, said, 
in his usually brief, sharp tones, "Very undignified, Capt. Kemper." 
"Can't help it. General; just see how the Yankees are skeedad- 
ling !" The excuse seemed sufficient, and Gen. Gregg rode on. 
Capt. Kemper was severely wounded soon after, and spent several 
weeks in Columbia ; he corroborated the statement. 

I have in my possession the sheath-knife carried by Gen. Gregg 
throughout the war. 

Generals Hampton and Howard. 

On one of Gen. O. O. Howard's visits to Columbia, during Re- 
construction days, he met Gen. Hampton accidentally, in the pres- 
ence of Major James G. Gibbes. The Major introduced the two 
Generals. Howard promptly put forward his one hand towards the 
Carolina General, who withheld his for a few seconds, saying, "I 
cannot take your hand, sir, until you retract your statement as to my 
connection with the burning of this city." "General Hampton," was 
the prompt reply, "I freely admit that I was mistaken in that matter ; 
and hope that now you will forgive and forget it." Hampton 
nodded and a hearty hand-shake resulted. 

No Meat in the House, 

Soon after Sherman's departure, we found ourselves in the fix of 
the boy, who is described as diligently digging for a length of time 
in search of a ground-hog. When the suggestion was made that he 
couldn't find the animal, the indignant reply was, "I've got to have 
him ; the preacher is coming and there's no meat in the house." We 
were out of that necessary provision, when a solitary pig came in 
sight. Chase was made, but the animal had passed through that 
experience before; he turned and ran in different directions, but 
finally we overhauled him in what I supposed was the neighborhood 
of his home. About the time he gave his last squeal, a colored 
woman came up and claimed the carcase. As we had chased the 
animal fully an hour and had several falls, as he back-tracked and 
ran between the legs of some of the parties in pursuit, bringing them 
to the ground, his claimant agreed that we should make an equal 
division. Adding, "Dat pig was de debbil. Soldiers run him, wetms 
run him and youuns run him ; tank God, he dead, sure !" We dined 
on fresh pig that day. ' 



Oldest Church in Columbia. 

Inquiries arc often made as to the oldest church in Columbia. As 
far as I can learn, the Presbyterian is the oldest denomination. The 
Rev. D. E. Dunlap, of that church, was "called" to the Columbia 
Church in 1794. 1802 is the first direct reference to the Methodists, 
with Rev. John Harper. In 1802, the Methodists and Presbyterians 
held services alternately in the State House. St. Peter's (Roman 
Catholic) is the oldest building, having been erected in 1824. It 
will soon disappear, however, as the construction of a new edifice is 
about to begin. This will leave the pennant with Trinity. This 
building has recently been again overhauled. The ornamental pro- 
jections along the roof — ^pediments, perhaps, would express the 
meaning — were covered with lead; during the war, that weighty 
ornamentation was removed and sent to the Yankees, but in a shape 
they didn't appreciate — ^buUets, and the projections displayed their 
nakedness until recently. Pretty little cherubs formerly adorned the 
interior of the building ; some prudish members of the congregation 
objected, and leaves in wreathy shape covered the supports or ap- 
pendages, but this did not satisfy the objectors, and finally the figures 
disappeared. Old Washington Street Methodist Church was dedi- 
cated in 1832. The Baptist Church, which formerly stood on the 
southeast corner of Sumter and Plain streets, held the age honor; 
but Sherman's men destroyed it — having been informed that the 
famous Secession Convention met there. "If a lie can be justifiable," 
as the priest commented, in **The Two Orphans," "it would be in this 
case," and I believe the party received "absolution." It was the 
(then) new building, still standing, where that august body met to 
inaugurate a bldbdy war; but got frightened at several cases of 
small-pox, and adjourned to Charleston, where the Secession Ordi- 
nance was ratified. 

Obeyed the Bench Warrant, 

A very eccentric character was Mr. O. Z. Bates. When quite a 
young man, and acting as Deputy Sheriif , he was sent with a "bench 
warrant" to arrest and bring before the Court a man named White- 
cotton, who resided in the forks of the Congaree and Wateree. The 
family were looked upon as "dangerous." Mr. B. took his double- 
barreled gun and went down to the house of the party called for. 
The story is that as he approached, Whitecotton fired at the officer, 


but without doing him any injury. Bates replied with his gun, and 
Whitecotton fell dead. The body was put in front of the Deputy, 
who quietly remounted his horse, and brought what there was of 
Whitecotton before the Court. The tragedy struck terror to the 
members of the family, and it is understood that they pulled up 
stakes and went to Texas. 

Visit of La Fayette — 1824. 

At the invitation of the American people. Marquis de La Fayette 
visited America, and in his tour, spent several days in Columbia. A 
committee of citizens and military escorted him from Camden, and 
they were met a few miles from here by a similar committee from the 
capital. As the procession reached Taylor's Lane, a goose deliber- 
ately stepped in front and waddled to Main street, turned to the left 
and continued to Gervais, then through Gervais to the residence of 
Mr. and Mrs. Rudolph, north side, between Marion and Bull, where 
the bird of Jove flapped his wings, squeaked and waddled away again. 
This information was given to me by Mr. Lewis Levy, a member of 
the Richland Volunteer Rifle Company, and corroborated by Mrs. 
Grace Ann Sternes, who was one of the little misses who strewed 
flowers before the honored guest. A military guard of honor was 
on duty during the stay of the Marquis. The next morning, while 
receiving guests, an elderly colored man rode up, got down, hitched 
his mule, and asked permission to see "Mars. General ;" that "Old 
Marster" was sick and couldn't come, so he sent him ; that he cooked 
for their mess, and "Mars. General" would remember him. After 
some delay, he was allowed to enter the reception room unannounced. 
Depositing his hat carefully behind the door, he advanced, the crowd 
politely giving way, as they truthfully surmised that something of 
interest was about to occur. The old fellow gave a sort of military 
salute, and addressed the Marquis : "Mars. General, I's powerful glad 
to see you again." La Fayette put his hand to his head for a few 
seconds, and then with a pleasant smile gave a hearty grip to the 
gratified darkey. They chatted for several minutes, when the visitor, 
with a polite bow and an earnest, "Thank God, Mars. General, that I 
see you once more; I ain't long for this world, nor you neither." 
Reaching the sidewalk, he mounted his mule and departed home- 
ward. It was reported that owner and slave died soon after. Mrs. 
Rudolph was so overcome by excitement connected with the enter- 
tainment of the nation's guest, that she became a lunatic, and died in 
an insane asylum. 

In the Metropolitan Museum at Central Park, New York, is a col- 


lection of so-called portraits of La Fayette. The representations are 
varied, and were evidently collected from all parts of the globe, as 
the faces represent almost all nationalities. There's a similar variety 
of George Washington. 

Old Hotels or Taverns. 

Rives' Tavern, on east side Richardson street, near Gervais, oppo- 
site the State House, was the first hostelry with which Columbia 
was blessed. Mrs. Margaret M. Martin told me that she stopped 
there with her parents on their arrival from Scotland, in 1817. It 
was afterwards called "Green's ;" but for a number of years before 
it was torn down to allow space for the new Capitol, it had been 
discontinued for hotel purposes and was occupied by families. The 
Indian Queen (northwest corner Main and Taylor) followed. Then 
Briggs' (northwest corner Richardson and Lady) was erected by a 
man from the North named Briggs, but no connection of the Green 
family. Then came the United States, built also by Mr. Briggs. I 
received my information from the good wife of Dr. F. W. Green, 
who frequently attended dances in the hotels mentioned. She was 
a daughter of the Briggs of bridge-building fame. The first pro- 
prietor of Briggs' that I remember was Mr. Adam Edgar; then 
Mr. William Maybin, Col. A. H. Gladden (for a company), Messrs. 
Janney & Leaphart until the Sherman fire. I know nothing of the 
United States Hotel until Mr. A. M. Hunt took charge ; then turned 
it over to Mr. T. S. Nickerson, who continued it until the burning. 
Soon after the 1865 fire, he opened the Methodist College as a hotel, 
with satisfactory results. Feeling that he must either expand or 
"bust," Mr. N. disposed of his interest in the college hotel to Mr. 
Wright and went to Georgia, where he carried on three hotels until 
his death. 

Columbia's First Important Fire, 

In 1841, Columbia had its first extensive conflagration. The 
flames broke out in a blacksmith shop in Davis' alley (now known as 
Lorick & Lowrance's), destroyed the entire Main street front on that 
side of the square (Plain to Taylor), and extending across the 
street, wiped out the property from Plain street to the two two-story 
buildings extending to the corner of Taylor — ^known as "Brick 
Range," the principal stores in the town. G. V. Antwerp, John I. 
Gracey, A. Young, Alfred North, Sherman & Stratton, Phillip 
Myers, A. Alexander, Henry Davis, John McKenzie, Elias Pollock, 
I. D. Mordecai, Cohen & Bell, the South Carolinian printing office 
and others being suflFerers. Col. Wade Hampton (our late General) 


and a sailor named Neville, who was visiting relatives here, are 
entitled to the credit of saving that property (owned by Mr. Robert 
Latta), for they worked energetically, and presented a sad appear- 
ance when they came down from the roof — hair and whiskers singed, 
clothing soaked with water, blackened and burned. The crowd 
cheered them heartily. The fire department consisted of two small 
hand engines — ^the Independent (white) and the Vigilant (colored), 
with a so-called hook and ladder company (the principal occupation 
of the members of the latter being to keep mischievous boys from 
running away with the useless appendage whenever it was brought 
to a fire). The members of the companies worked efficiently, and 
prevented what was at first thought would be an extensive and de- 
structive conflagration. Mr. Latta presented the white company 
with a silver-speaking trumpet and gave Mr. Galloway Monteith's 
colored boys a liberal "feed." 

''Not Till I've Laced My Cor sets r 

During this famous Main street fire, Mrs. Alexander, the wife of 
a clothing merchant, saw that her two young children were in safe 
hands, and then proceeded coolly to dress herself. She was notified 
several times that the building was on fire, and she must come out ; 
but her sole reply was : "Not till I lace my corsets. I'm hot going 
to catch my death of cold." And finish the job she did, notwith- 
standing the importunities of her numerous friends. 

Dr. Elias Marks, of Barhamville. 

This well known and talented educationalist and poet brought into 
prominence and kept to the front the first female institution in the 
vicinity of Columbia during the early thirties. At Barhamville were 
educated female representatives of the first families of South Caro- 
lina, Georgia, Florida and other States, among them the mother of 
President Roosevelt. Dr. Marks was an Israelite, but became con- 
verted to Christianity, and connected himself with Trinity Church. 
His first wife and several members of his family are interred in the 
grave-yard connected with that church. A volume of his poetry was 
published in 1850, and was favorably commended by the writers of 
the day — George P. Morris praising the work highly, and publish- 
ing lengthy extracts from it in The Home Journal, of New York. 
Besides educating his brother's daughters, he showed his liberality 
by requesting his aged mother, when making her will, to leave him 
$5 only, and to bestow the entire property, consisting of real estate 
and negroes, upon his less fortunate relatives. He was satisfied, he 


said, that his children would never object to the provisions of the 
will, but it was just as well to be on the safe side. Dr. Marks re- 
tired from his famous institution during the early days of the war, 
and was succeeded by Madam Sosnowski, an educated Polish lady, 
until the latter part of 1864. Barhamville buildings were destroyed 
by an accidental fire, about twenty years ago, and the venerable 
teacher passed hence soon after, at the residence of his daughter 
(Edwina), Mrs. Chamberlain, in Washington City. He has a son 
living in Plattsburg, N. Y. 

Log Cabins, Coon-Skins and Hard Cider. 

The Presidental camjpaign of 1841, which I remember distinctly, 
was the most exciting of any known in this section. The Whigs 
were vastly in the majority, and held meetings, where excited 
speakers yelled to the delight of the assembled crowd, while log 
cabins of varied sizes from 10x20 to tiny affairs, with coon-skins 
nailed against the sides, and a barrel supposed to contain "hard 
cider," was appended. The Democrats, with ex-Sheriff Jesse De- 
Bruhl at the head, ornamented with red caps, paraded the streets, 
and made headquarters in the circus building, which adjoined St. 
Peter's Church on the north. The small boy was muchly in evi- 
dence; "Whigs eat dead pigs," "Democrats eat dead rats," and 
similar expressions were hurled at each other by the youngsters, who 
apparently took as much interest in politics as their seniors, and 
fights were of hourly occurrence. The Whigs had campaign din- 
ners at "D. Caldweirs Hotel," with the accompanying speeches, and 
a full supply of hard cider. Ladies would attend, and many of the 
gentlemen wore ruflfled shirts. Mr. Frank Root was a frequent 
attendant. Hard cider was not considered intoxicating ; but on one 
occasion, Mr. Root, in response to a suggestion, "Empty your 
glasses," made the attempt, but could not reach his lips and the 
contents took the beauty and the starch out of his neatly gotten-up 
shirt front. 

Another Little Face in the Picture. 

Mr. Broadbent, an artist who painted a number of satisfactory 
portraits — Capt. and Mrs. John Heise, C. V. Carrington, Charley 
Bedell, A. L. Kline and a number of others — was called upon by 
Mr. Lewis Elias to paint a family group. He explained to the artist 
what he wanted, and inquired the price. He was informed of the 
amount after the necessary calculation. Considering over the mat- 
ter for a short time, he gave the order, and offered to pay part in 
advance. This the artist declined. In due time the sittings were 


had and the work completed, much to the gratification of all parties, 
and the cash promptly handed over. Several months elapsed, when 
Mr. E. put in an appearance, with a quizzical look on his counte- 
nance. After exchanging salutations, he broke out, "Mr. Broad- 
bent, I come to see you 'bout the picture." "Anything wrong, Mr. 
Elias?" was the artist's reply; "if so, I will try and remedy it." 
"No," said Mr. E., stroking his chin, as was his wont ; "but Rebecca 
present me with a fine little boy last week, and I come to see if you 
can put another little face in the picture." Mr. Broadbent was 
much amused ; but whether he succeeded in "putting in another little 
face," I can't remember. I have traced the picture to the possession 
of Mr. Israel, a son-in-law, who lives in Charleston; and when I 
again visit the city, I shall, Paul Pry-like, call and get a look at the 
sixty-five-year-old picture. 

Patrol and Street Duty — ''Run, Nigger, Run!" 

Six .days and nights of patrol and street duty was the law in the 
good old days for all citizens between the ages of eighteen and sixty 
years, or the payment of a tax of $3. The youngsters thought it 
was quite a "lark," but one day or night's experience gave perfect 
satisfaction, and I never heard of any one making a second trial. 
Firemen were exempt, and the fire companies had full ranks, and 
efficient work was done — no laggards were allowed to remain in the 
companies. I remember an energetic man, who was always on hand, 
on one occasion was marked "absent," and being called up at the 
company meeting, answered "no excuse," and prepared to pay his 
fine ; but before that necessary proceeding could be effected, several 
indignant members jumped to their feet and insisted upon an expla- 
nation, declaring they would have no man in the company who from 
absence at an alarm of fire should give such an answer. Poor 
Brooks wriggled, turned red and finally gave a satisfactory but un- 
pleasant reason for not answering at roll-call. Objections were 
withdrawn and he remained an active member until his return to his 
northern home after the conclusion of hostilities in the so-called 
"Civil War." Brooks came here to move the State House into 
Senate street; did his work satisfactorily, and was so pleased with 
the condition of things, that he remained. 

10 o'clock in the summer months — May until September — and 9 
the rest of the year, were the hours for bell-ringing; and then any 
unfortunate negro caught without a "pass" was locked up for the 
night, a whipping administered the next morning, and he or she 
turned loose. "Skinning" over back fences was an accomplishment 

ane;cdotai, re;miniscence;s. 129 

practiced by both sexes. "Run, nigger, run, and get your pass," etc., 
was fully understood. Mr. Joshua Sowden ("Marse Josh," as he 
was termed by the darkeys,) filled the position of Chief Marshal from 
the time of his selection until his death. Mr. John Burdell was 
another official who gave satisfaction, and he served until the reign 
of the Radicals, when he removed to Kershaw County and became a 
successful planter. He has paid several visits to his old tramping 
grounds (horses were not in vogue then for police officials), ex- 
presses himself pleased with the condition of things here and the 
improvements made, etc., but prefers country life. 

The Military and Fourth of July, 

The old militia law in South Carolina was very stringent. Every 
individual between the ages of eighteen and fifty was compelled to 
do military duty, either in uniformed companies or the "Beats," 
as those God-forsaken-looking soldiers used to be called. The con- 
sequence was Columbia had seven uniformed companies : The Rich- 
land Rifles, Governor's Guards, Carolina Blues, Emmett Guards^ 
Greys, Flying Artillery, Richland Light Dragoons, and on regi- 
mental or battalion parades. College Cadets and Cedar Creek Rifles. 
Fourth of July was one of the regular parade days. The companies 
would assemble at 6 o'clock in the morning, march to Taylor's Hill, 
the Artillery fired a salute (sometimes the Infantry would also) ; 
march down again, have a collation, and dismiss for the day. 

Charleston was the military city, however, with twenty-seven uni- 
formed companies, besides several "Beats." On the morning of the 
Fourth the line would be formed on Broad street, extending from 
the old Post Office clear to the Ashley River, and after review by 
the General in command, with an elegantly uniformed staff, would 
march to the Battery, fire a salute and be dismissed. You could hear 
"ping! ping!" in the water, as the "Beats" would discharge their 
guns, with the ramrods. 

A very amusing incident occurred on one of these occasions. 
Gen. James Simons had a magnificent horse, that he prized highly. 
On the night of the 2d, some mischievous creature shaved the fine 
tail of this favorite animal. Gen. S. was highly indignant over the 
matter, but how to remedy the evil was what interested him. A firm 
of saddlers heard of the trouble, and thought they could manufac- 
ture a tail, which they proceeded to do, and it looked very well. 
Gen. S. mounted his war-horse and was galloping down the line, 
when there was an unmilitary-sounding yell. His suspicions were 
excited, and he looked hurriedly around. To his horror, the false 
9— M 


tail had become detached and fallen to the ground, and the denuded 
tail stuck out nearly a yard in length. Spurs were applied and the 
discomfited General disappeared in short order. 

I hope the Legislature will re-enact the old militia laws — cut loose 
from Uncle Sam — and run our own system: We'd then have in- 
numerable military companies ; instead of having to struggle to keep 
up two rigged in Khaki, there would be ten or twelve in varied rig. 
There is enough esprit de corps to keep up the system. Let's have 
our own military. 

South Carolina Had First Steam Railroad. 

South Carolina has the honor of building the first steam railroad 
in the United States. There was a short line from Mauch Chunk, 
Pennsylvania, which claimed it ; but the New York Scientific Ameri- 
can investigated the matter thoroughly, and endorsed the South 
Carolina claim. The road was completed from Charleston to Au- 
gusta, Ga., in the thirties, but it did not reach Columbia until 1842. 
There was a "big time" in the capital city on the arrival of the first 
train. The Washington Light Infantry and French Artillery (La 
Fayette, I suppose,) came up from Charleston, besides a number of 
civilians, to participate in the festivities. There was a barbecue on 
the lot adjacent to the depot, with plenty of spiritual accompani- 
ments — great tubs, filled with punch and lemonade, were scattered 
around promiscuously — ^lager beer was not in vogue then. Ice was 
something rare, except when winter reigned. My good friend, 
Charles Neuffer, Esq., the genial German, superintended the fluid 
distribution, and gave me several lemons, suflfiicient sugar and a big 
lump of ice, to take home and prepare a lemonade for my mother. 
The ice slipped and fell to the ground, and was left — I thought it 
was dirty. 

■ Mr. Henry T. Peake, afterwards Superintendent of the South 
Carolina Railroad, was one of the first engineers, with the "Ravenel." 
According to my recollection, the "Robt. Y. Hayne," a diminutive 
locomotive, hauled the first train. Every afternoon crowds of people 
would go down to see the train arrive from Charleston — ^the run 
requiring twelve hours. The remark of an Irishman, who had sta- 
tioned himself at a respectable distance from the locomotive, im- 
pressed me very forcibly: "If that ain't hell in harness, what is it?" 

Passenger cars, barrel-shaped, were much in vogue at one time, 
but an unusual jar sent two of them rolling down a hill for a con- 
siderable distance, injuring none of the passengers seriously, but 
causing several to be troubled with something like seasickness. 

ane;cdotai, reminiscences. 131 

The Whipping-post. 

Years ago, there was a whipping-post law in this State, and it had 
the effect of getting rid of bad characters. When a white man once 
had "thirty-nine lashes on the bare-back," he disappeared and never 
turned up again. I remember the names of only two men that I 
saw punished or degraded (because the lashes were never laid on 
hard) were William Rabun and Slocum B. Church. They left 
before night. 

Tar and Feathers, 

Abolition ideas and conversation were not allowed here up to the 
beginning of the war. Even the circulation of the New York 
Tribune and other papers of a like ilk were prohibited. A man 
named Powell, employed as a stone-mason on the erection of the 
State Capitol, was foolish enough to persist in publicly expressing 
his views as to negro slavery, notwithstanding repeated warnings. 
Finally, Powell was seized, carried to the neighborhood of Fisher's 
Pond, his clothing removed and cared for, and he was well smeared 
with tar, then a pillow-case was opened and he was feathered. His 
clothing was turned over to him and he left. 

Sam Glover, a noted colored barber, was treated similarly for 
good and sufficient reasons. He turned up in Washington City, 
where he barberized until his death, but did not boast about the 
matter of the ''coat." 

Veteran of Ninety-Eight and His Weapon, 

In 1847, Mr. George Shegog, an Irish gentleman, daintily attired 
in a bottle-green dress-coat, lined with white silk, yellow vest and 
pants, wearing a white silk hat, the under portion of the brim tinted 
green, put in an appearance here and remained something over a 
year. The understanding was that he was the eldest son of a dis- 
tinguished well-to-do Irish family. His visit was to a sister and 
brother, who had emigrated from the Green Isle many years before, 
and took up their abode in the capital town of South Carolina. The 
sister married and had an only daughter (Mrs. John Agnew), who 
also married and left descendants. Soon after the departure of the 
elder brother, the mangled remains of the younger man were found 
alongside the Greenville and Columbia Railroad, a short distance 
above the Elmwood avenue bridge crossing that railroad. Mr. 
George Shegog would sometimes sit in a thoughtful mood for half 
an hour, and then in a dreamy tone of voice detail incidents in his 
early life pertaining to the rebellion of '98, which were very inter- 
esting. Mrs. Eugene Cramer has in her possession a formidable 

132 m£;morabiua and 

looking pike, with an axe and sharp hook attached, which it is 
claimed was used in the famous battle of the Boyne Water, and 
afterwards in the Rebellion of '98. A copper inscription on the 
oaken handle so declares, and that it was brought over by Mr. 
George Shegog. 

Wanted Little Gold Crucifixes. 

Mr. Lewis Elias was in business here until a few years before the 
so-called "Civil War," when he removed to North Carolina — "Move 
on," being the motto of the Israelites. When the volunteers were 
about taking the cars for Mexico, he went among them, telling them 
good-bye and distributing useful articles. His sage remark to some 
of his individual friends was, "Boys, I don't exactly believe in 'em, 
but when you get to the halls of the Montezumas, and are gathering 
up little gold Jesuses, think of Elias, and put away a few for him. 
Mr. Elias belonged to a long-lived family. When he was nearly 
seventy years of age he took a trip to Germany to see his mother. 

Old-Time Toddy-Stick, &c. 

I was speaking before Mrs. Lucile Rion about the customs in old 
times — ^the days of loaf-sugar and other pure articles — when I re- 
ferred to the adornments of a gentleman's sideboard with a bottle 
of brandy, sugar-bowl and an oak toddy-stick, pitcher of water, ne- 
cessary glasses, etc. She quietly left the room, and in a few minutes 
returned, holding one of the useful implements for crushing the 
hard lumps of sugar, and inquired, "Anything like this?" There 
was the genuine article itself. There was no smell of spirits or 
mint, but it brought up vividly what it was used for. In those old 
days, the gentlemen had brandy toddies, juleps, etc. ; while the ladies 
were furnished with wines, cordials, liqueres, and sherry, maras- 
chino, perfect love, etc. The oaken implement brought all these 
things to memory. The owner prized it because it belonged to her 
father — she did not know its use. 

Mrs. Rion has among her collection of curios the remnant of the 
small cane with which her grand-father, Preston S. Brooks, Esq., 
gave the insolent Charles Sumner, of Massachusetts, a lesson in 
politeness. Also the desk at which Representative Brooks sat, while 
member of the House of Representatives. 

Racing in Old Times — Four Mile Heats, 

Columbia formerly had one of the finest race tracks — or two of 
them, I might say — the Columbia Jockey Club, a portion of the pres- 
ent Ep worth grounds, and the other Hampton's (or Boney Young's 
as it was generally called), on the South Carolina Railroad, a few 


miles below the town. Such names as Hampton, Singleton, and 
other gentlemen of like ilk, managed the racing. Some of the 
finest stock in the country would run here — stopping on the way 
through to New Orleans. The greatest event of the racing world 
at that time occurred here — a four mile heat between four horses — 
Cornelia Reed, Grif Edmondson, Ellen Evans, and another. Each 
horse had won a heat, making sixteen miles, when the owner of one 
of the animals withdrew him, saying he would not run his horse 
to death; another was ruled out on some technicality. One more 
heat was run and the mare was the winner — ^the race not being 
decided until long after night had closed in. 

Running Ten Miles in an Hour. 

A man named Jackson, the "American Deer," as he was called, 
accomplished a wonderful feat on the old race track here. He ran 
ten miles in a fraction less than sixty-one minutes. He was to make 
the run in an hour, but was annoyed by outsiders pressing, him too 
close to the fence, so that he lost that amount of time. The judges 
properly awarded him the money. Up to the last mile parties would 
attempt to go around the track with the runner, but had to fall to 
the rear in every instance. 

A Long Imprisonment, 

In the spring of 1852, I paid a visit to the famous Sing Sing 
Prison, on the Hudson River, in New York State, and was escorted 
over the entire building, even including the woman's department 
(the women prisoners have since been transferred to another strong- 
hold). A Mrs. Robinson, known as the "veiled murderess," had 
been convicted of a peculiar murder in Troy, the year before. This 
sobriquet was obtained from the fact that during the trial she kept 
her veil down, and only raised it when ordered so to do by the Judge 
when sentence was about to be pronounced upon her, and immedi- 
ately afterwards down it went again. It was said that in the prison 
she was allowed to wear a half veil. I merely saw her back. The 
woman's identity never was discovered. It was thought that she 
hid her features to prevent recognition by acquaintances who might 
happen into the Court room. She was plentifully supplied with 
money from some unknown source. The sentence was imprison- 
ment for life, and it is being rigidly enforced. After serving more 
than fifty-three years' imprisonment, she became insane, and was 
transferred to a lunatic asylum. That is the longest imprisonment 
that ever I heard of. The New York authorities evidently believe in 
woman suffrage or suffering. 




Columbia — The Capital City. 

The Legislature of 1786 appointed commissioners to arrange about 

building a town and removing the seat of government thereto. In 
1790, Columbia became the capital — the Legislative body having 
previously met in Charleston and Jacksonboro.-^^he vote on select- 
ing the capital was very close — Stateburg and Columbia being the 
competitors, and the latter only won by one vote. A plot of level 
ground on the Lexington side of the river, a short distance from 
Congaree Creek, had been looked upon favorably, but a freshet in 
the Congaree flooded it completely, and so ended its chances. Col. 
Thomas Taylor, the owner of the land purchased, declared that "A 
d — d good cotton plantation was going to be spoiled to build a d — d 
poor town.^^In 1805, Columbia was incorporated as a town. 
The vote on selection was truly close. 

Our City and What It Claims, 

The incidents and information contained here began when the 

population of Columbia numbered less than 10,000 souls. Now — 

1905, notwithstanding Sherman's attempt to "wipe us out" — we have 

nearly come up to the 40,000 mark; real estate has doubled and 

trebled in value; vacant places been and being built upon, a sky- 

\j^ scraper towers over us ; mills and manufactories of many different 

^ kinds are carried on successfully; emigrants coming in; we com- 

v" ~\ municate "with the world and the rest of mankind" (as Gen. Zach- 

* • ary Taylor put it) by means of the telegraph and long distance 

\^ 'phone, feailroad connection is complete with every section, besides 

river communication with the sea. Trolley lines connect suburban 

settlements, and in the near future Brookland, Lexington and other 

neighboring towns and villages will have these convenient modes 

of transportation. As to the climate, that is hard to beat ; plenty of 

V good water, and thorough sewerage. And the boom continues. 

^ To be Regretted. 

Columbia is fast losing one of her principal attractions — ^the beau- 
tiful gardens. This is to be regretted, but the work of improvement 
must not be impeded. "The old order changeth, yielding place to 
new," Tennyson expresses it very prettily. "Ring out the old, ring 
in the new," he further says. We must yield to the inevitable. 
Buildings are needed, and vacant space must be built upon. But 
we cant' help bewailing the loss of the gardens. 



First Newspaper in Columbia. 

The Times & Gazette, I have reason to believe, was the first news- 
paper issued in Columbia, and, I think, published by John and Daniel 
Faust, near the southwest corner of Richardson and Washington 
streets. Mr. Landrum, who afterwards carried on the pottery a few 
miles to the northeast of the town, published The Hive for a time. 
The Telescope was published in 1820. The South Carolinian, by 
A. H. & W. F. Pemberton, followed in 1832. The Palmetto State 
Banner, by I. C. Morgan; Temperance Advocate, by John G. Bow- 
man; Southern Chronicle, by Samuel Weir; Illustrated Family 
Friend, by Stuart A. Godman; Carolina Times, by E. H. Britton, 
Gyles & LaMotte and C. P. Pelham, and several others ; The Tele- 
scope rtsumtd by A. S. Johnston; The Daily Telegraph, by Sill 
& De Leon, and then De Leon & Carlisle ; The Daily South Caro- 
linian, by Cavis & Johnston, which swamped The Telegraph very 
soon. The Courant, a literary publication, by the poet, Howard 
H. Caldwell. There were others, but their names I can't remember, 
as their existence was so brief. A. G. Summer, Esq., and B. R. 
Carroll, Esq., were connected with the South Carolinian for a time ; 
also Dr. R. W. Gibbes and F. G. DeFontaine & Co. Then followed 
The Daily Phoenix, Then came The Register and a number of 
others, but as their careers were brief, it is unnecessary to mention 
them. The State and The Record are the sole survivors. 

Oldest Houses in Columbia. 

The substantial two-story building, southeast corner of Lady and 
Marion streets, now owned by Mrs. John M. Kinard, has the repu- 
tation of being the oldest in the city. The two-story house, north- 
west corner Bull and Gervais, owned by Mr. Heath, and the one 
directly west, now occupied by Dr. Moore, come next. The Van 
Benthuysen house, on the southeast corner of Bull and Lady (built 
by Mr. A. Herbemont), is another. The Taylor house, near the 
Charlotte depot — which looked as if it had been slewed around by 
some freak of nature — held "the age," but a storm demolished it 
soon after the war. The house on the northwest corner of Gates 
and Lumber streets, now owned by Mr. Thos. Gibson, is not far 
behind, while the brick one, near the north corner of the block, fol- 
lows suit. The Judge Nott homestead, now owned by Mr. M. L. 
Kinard, on Elmwood avenue, between Assembly and Gates streets, 
comes in about the same time. It formerly stood nearly 200 feet 
further back, but Mr. Richard Sondley purchased it and moved it 
that much nearer to civilization. Then comes the Hales house, 


northeast corner Pickens and Richland streets, now occupied by 
Edwin G. Seibels, Esq. The house on the north side Laurel street, 
between Bull and Pickens, occupied by Mrs. J. T. Simms, comes in 
a similar category. The two-story brick "DeBruhr* house, north- 
east corner Marion and Laurel streets, is also an old one. 

Our First Emigrants. 

A short time before the fire of 1841, the first German emigrants 
of whom I have any knowledge arrived in Columbia — Messrs. M. 
Ehrlich, H. Bruns, G. Eilhardt and John Stork (uncle of Mr. Abram 
Stork), shoemakers, and Mr. Hertzog, carpenter. They all proved 
acceptable citizens, amassed goodly sums of money and left families, 
who have been creditable to them. The shoemakers occupied the 
premises on Main street, between Plain and Taylor, where Messrs. 
Stork and Davis now hold forth. We lived only a few doors off, 
and I used to visit the new-comers daily in their work-shop — amused 
at their peculiar language and earnest efforts to master English, 
while they appeared pleased at my prattle. I remained on good 
terms with them up to the last. Mr. Hertzog finally removed from 
Columbia and died. After realizing a competency, Mr. Eilhardt, 
with his wife and daughter, returned to Germany ; but he was dis- 
satisfied — saying that he knew nobody and nobody knew him in his 
native town, and he wanted to come back to Columbia, where he 
knew everybody — his family objected, however. Mr. Ehrlich paid 
a visit to the Fatherland a short time before his earthly career ended, 
and went to see his old friend. 

The First Clock — Mr, Benjamin Rawls Supplied It. 

The first public clock was erected by Mr. Benjamin Rawls, grand- 
father of ex- Alderman Benjamin Rawls. It was located on the top 
of his building, on the west side of Main street, between Taylor and 
Walnut (now Blanding) streets. The clock face was large, the 
figures distinct, and it was for several years the only public time- 
keeper with which the community was blessed. When the authori- 
ties finally erected a tower, on the northwest corner of Main and 
Washington streets, Mr. Rawls (who was a professional clock-maker 
and repairer) was put in charge and retained the place for years. 
At the Shermanizing there was a literal verification of "Hickory, 
dickery, dock" — as the clock struck 1, on the memorable 17-18 Feb- 
ruary, 1865, the steeple fell, and stopped the echoes summarily. The 
bell was cracked by the fall, but Mr. Robert McDougal sawed out 
the crack and it did duty suspended from a tree on the jail lot for 
several years. 


Intendants and Mayors of Columbia. 

John Taylor, Esq., was the first Intendant, dected in May, 1806. 
Then follow Abraham Nott, Claiborne Clifton, John HocJccr, Daniel 
Faust, Simon Taylor, Robert Stark, Wm. E. Hayne, James Gregg, 
Daniel Morgan, James T. Goodwyn, David J. McCord, Wm. F. De- 
Saussure, E. H. Maxcy, Wm. C. Preston, Wm. C. Clifton, Dr. M, 
H. DeLeon, John Bryce, Dr. R. W. Gibbes, B. T, Elmore. R. H, 
Goodwin, W. M. Myers, Wm. B. Stanley, Joel Stevenson, Dr. Ed- 
ward Sill, Henry Lyons, A. H. Gladden, Wm. Maybin, Ed. J, Arthur, 
Jas. D. Tradewell, Dr. Allen J. Green, Dr. John H. Boatwright, Dr. 
Thos. J. Goodwyn, James G. Gibbes, Theo. Starke, Col. Gunther, 
C. H. Baldwin, John McKenzie, John Alexander, John Agnew, R. 
O'Neale, Jr., John T. Rhett, F. W. McMaster, Dr. W. C. Fisher, 
W. McB. Sloan, Thos. J. Lipscomb, F. S. Earle and T. H. Gibbes. 
Several of these were re-elected. 

Columbia Not on the "Square/* 

Our city, owing to the peculiar ideas of the surveyors, instead of 
"boxing the compass," runs north, with an easterly turn. Prof. M. 
W. Williams, of the South Carolina College, had a column twenty 
feet high erected on the then vacant square, showing the N., E., W., 
S., and then for some purpose pertaining to that object, I suppose, 
had a platform with a small column above it, diagonally across from 
there, on the old Steward's Hall lot. The latter is still standing, 
but the larger column was torn down when the property was sold, 
and residences erected. Mr. D. Gambrill is now the owner of the 
ground, southwest corner Sumter and College streets. An idea 
prevailed that the column was intended to designate the exact centre 
of the State, but this is a mistake. I heard Prof. W. explain the 
matter, and as he expressed it, he wanted to show that Columbia 
was not on the "square." He elucidated the subject thoroughly, but 
the above is the substance of it. She is on the "rise," however, be- 
cause the old street railroad used for transporting cotton to the 
canal boats is now over five feet below the surface, and in digging 
to secure a good foundation for a building, the remains of a brick 
pavement were found six feet below the present level. She's dead 
sure on a boom. 

The Oldest Walls. 

It is claimed that the walls of the blacksmith shop on the west side 
of Sumter street, near Washington, now belonging to the Brennan 
family, are the oldest known in the town. They have been recovered 
and reoccupied at least four times. 


Our Oldest Citizen. 

Mr. Hugh McElrone was, without doubt, the oldest citizen of 
Columbia — ^his age being 103 years — when he departed this life last 
year. Several colored persons have been reported at different times 
to have passed the century mark, but their dates could not be de- 
pended on. Mrs. Mary Hillegas touched one hundred ; Mr. Benja- 
min Rawls, former Postmaster, and Mr. R. O'Neale, cotton buyer, 
reached ninety- four ; Mr. John Veal and Mr. Isaac Coleman touched 
ninety-two. Mr. McElrone was a native of Ireland, but had resided 
in Columbia for over sixty years, and enjoyed the respect of the 
entire community. It could be truthfully said of him that his word 
was as good as his bond, and he hated a lie "worse than the devil 
does holy water." He had acted as watchman for the banks of the 
city for more than a quarter of a century. His remains are interred 
in St. Peter's burial ground, of which church he was a revered 
member. Notwithstanding the ugly weather, there was an immense 
attendance of people to do honor to the venerated citizen. 

Graded School Buildings. 

The land now occupied by the Washington Street School, with 
some other in the suburbs, was given for educational purposes, and 
ten free pupils were to be taught. The buildings were constructed 
through the sale of the suburban property. The first teacher was, 
I believe, a Mr. Smith, then Dr. Elias Marks, Mr. W. Muller, the 
Misses Reynolds, Miss Ellen Elmore. It was afterwards turned 
over to the Graded School Commissioners — Miss Elmore declining 
to become the head of the institution. The four acres now occupied 
by the Laurel Street School was given by Col. John Taylor for a 
similar object. The teachers, as far as I know, were Messrs. James 
Daniels, Bulkley, Richard Ford and Hugh S. Thompson. 

Paper Mill. 

Columbia once had a paper mill, so an elderly lady informed me, 
but it was not long in operation. It was situated on the banks of 
the river, opposite to what was known as Lee's Island, a few hun- 
dred yards above Congaree Bridge (it is now part of the main land). 
The river was unusually high, and the storm was still raging, when 
the owner became uneasy and started down, but a superabundance 
of lightning put an end to his earthly career. The mill was under- 
mined and finally carried away. The site of it was pointed out 
years afterwards. I have heard reports of another mill, but know 
nothing about it. 


Served Triple Purposes. 

The substantial-looking building on the northeast corner of Lady 
and Marion streets, now 0¥med by Mrs. John H. Kinard, was built 
more than a century ago. It was first used as a Court House at 
Granby; then the Presbj-terians brought it to Columbia, and for 
many years it served as a church — and a good one it was, too. 
When about to remove it or tear it down, Mr. John R. Niernsee, 
architect of the State House, finding that the timbers were in good 
condition, bought it, moved it across the street, transmogrified it 
into a dwelling, and it bids fair to outlast many buildings of a later 
date. My informant was Mr. Isaac Coleman, a resident of Granby 
during its palmy days. 

Old Mills Gone Out of Business, 

"Young's" Mill, afterwards called **Geigcr*s,** at the fiH»t of 
Boundary street, now Elmwood avenue, used to In? an attractive s\^>t 
for picnic and walking parties. It was the principal anil oUlrstt |jri*t 
mill in the vicinity of Columbia. The old house Ijccanic dilapiilatnl 
and was torn down, the dam disappeared, and the Congarcr n>IU 
quietly along, without obstruction. 

Dr. Fred. Green had a mill — lumber and grint— near C\>n|i4»ve 
Bridge, but it was burnt. 

"Fisher's," afterwards known as "Roan's," wu« aUo jmtiHMU<ied 
by amusement-seekers — the large room in the seet»tul sitorv bein^ 
used for dancing. Meal and grist couKl be ^ronntl uxovt ihe^plv 
by steam, and the water-mills fell into disuse. Residents ioiiipUinetl 
that "Fisher's" Pond was a breeder of disease, uml it wtta uiileied 
to be drained by the authorities. The mill lt>st its motive jiowei, 
and now is in a tumble-down condition, and is soon to he renioved 
"Ring out the old, welcc^nie the new." 

Mr. Isaac Coleman, the oldest resident of CohuHl)ia tlwt I evii" 
heard of, and who is referred to several times in this Viihune, is 
authority for the sUtement that thrre was a [jonii ou llie ynauuls 
now owned by the College for Women, Theologiral Seminary and 
adjacent property; that a branch or water-way ran fn)ni lliere in 
a southwesterly direction, and was of sufficient depth an»l foree to 
turn the wheel for a mill located about the corner of Sumter and 
Blanding streets: that he frequently caught small fish from the same 

Mr. Jas. S. lioahcright and Cotton Gins. 

Whitnev was the actual inventrjr of the cotton gin, but Mr. James 
S. Boatwright, of this city, made such improvements upon it, that 


cotton men generally give the credit to the latter. At the time he 
was in the employ of Col. Tom Taylor, in a small factory on Dent's 
Pond, a few miles east of the city. The walls of the building are 
still standing. As Mr. B., Sr., got up in years, his son, Samuel, 
superintended the business. The Boatwright homestead was on the 
site of the present Court House, northwest corner Sumter and Wash- 
ington streets. The old gentleman was very democratic in his ideas 
and could be seen on the streets constantly in warm weather in his 
shirt-sleeves. One evening, during a fire-alarm, he was knocked 
down and so badly injured that it resulted in his death, Mr. B. 
knew who was responsible, but refused to give the name of the party, 
saying it was an accident. He had several sons and daughters and 
a number of descendants, but they are scattered, and but few of 
them reside in Columbia. 

Conga/ree and Saluda River Bridges. 

The two main modes of ingress and egress for Columbia were 
built by Mr. William Briggs in 1824, father of Mrs. F. W. Green, 
and his remains are interred in the Green lot, in Elmwood Ceme- 
tery, having been removed from the Methodist Church-yard. Broad 


River Bridge was not built until some years later. They were all 
destroyed on the approach of Sherman and his army. That officer 
is reported to have said that he was saved the trouble by the Confeds. 
He would have deemed it unsafe to trust his men on them, for fear 
of their being mined, and he was well supplied with pontoons. 

Changing Names of Streets. 

Blanding street was formerly called Walnut, and a tall white 
column, surmounted by a golden-colored horse, ornamented the Main 
street corner on the southeast — a sign for "Clark's Hotel." The 
town was under great obligations to the Blanding family for ma- 
terial aid in the construction of necessary water works, and made 
the change as a slight acknowledgment of their liberality. Medium 
street was changed to College, as it ran to the South Carolina Col- 
lege. Winn was changed to Gregg street, complimentary to Gen. 
Maxcey Gregg. The streets running north and south were named 
for Revolutionary Generals, while those from east to west were 
called to indicate our agricultural productions — wheat, rice, tobacco, 
indigo, etc. — cotton was not in vogue then ; miscellaneous names for 
the others were then used. 

En passant: Mr. Wm. DuHn, wishing to keep the commemorative 
style, named his male children Rice, Indigo and Sugar. Rice lived 
to a good old age, and dealt in cotton in Cotton Town. 


Ten Thousand Trees Destroyed, 

Columbia has been despoiled at different dates of more than 
10,000 trees. The town authorities must have commenced the plant- 
ing of trees at a very early date, because my earliest recollection is 
of triple rows in several of the streets — Blanding in particular. In 
1840 or '41 a terrible storm leveled over 3,000, so the town marshals 
reported. About twenty years ago, there was another decimation — 
large numbers being prostrated ; while the August of 18W witnessed 
terrible havoc. At one time, water-oaks prevailed; then China- 
berry, or Pride of India (which supplied the small boy wnth necessary 
ammunition for his pop-gun). Hack-berry, owing to its speedy 
growth, became popular ; but its slight root-holding brought it into 
disfavor — it certainly cannot be excelled as a shade tree, however. 

Renew the planting, gentlemen of the City Council. 

First Book Store in Columbia. 

The first book store in Columbia of which I have any knowledge 
was that of Mr. D. B. Plant, on the west side of Richardson street^ 
near Taylor. I have several toy-books with his name on them, dated 
1837. And such toy-books they were — plain, poorly printed, and 
illustrations that would disgrace a country newspaper. If 5ome of 
the children of the olden time could see the productions of the pres- 
ent day, they would doubtless declare that they had been bom too 
soon. Mr. William Cunningham came soon after, and at his death, 
about 1844, Allen & McCarter purchamrd the stock ; who in ttim 
transferred it to Brvan & McCarter; then to R. L. Brvan: then to 
Peter B. Glass, who continued it until the fire of 186/5. Middlekauff 
& Calhoun opened up, but soon fK>ld out to Town!*cnrl ft North* who 
were Shermanized, 

Tudor Hall— ''Door nf ftfff*^/' 

On the west side of Gat«« j^trcH, »ir*ttf l,rt»lv, Wrt«^ »Mir^ d ♦mtril 
house of ill-fame, the haWtat ni MttflttM* U***^?^?*!!, rt Vf*^y prf^tty 
woman. The objectionabk if^mni^ Wf*^^ i]m\\\' \■f^\\\n\^t\^ tf^t^imi- 
able famiUes afterward* tMim\pif^^i H, mti »lHtinB ili^^ lMt»l f^w Vf^ttfs 
it has been usefully ^^viun nii a fr^Umm\h\-)t U^\ unfMHlMirtiMtj "Till* 
Door of Hope;" mA in%uiU ^^hh\ M \Vf^^ ^^y.u\\\\\\\ii\\M\\, Wm Imv** 
wonderful tr2M&UfrtmlMm^, Mu\ \U\^ U "iilj^ mmm nf lliMMi- TIim \\u^^^t^ 
was begun in evil ^mi ><yitt <^m4 \\\ «"»*»!, *♦> [\\^ plMpMrly \XA^ hrtni 
purchased and kic\A u\t hy ^i/'^l i^'4\'\m H»^^H; wIlM My^ Rnyiny ihH 
the Saviour'* dir^ii^^i^ Ui M^* MUllfiiM^l^i; "I'^^l- \m\ wNm ib williinU 
sin," etc. 



Meeting a Fellow-Country man. 

Miss Emma Wright (afterwards Mrs. J. Kenneth), of this city, 
was a great friend of mine. In 1854, she accompanied my mother 
and myself on a trip to the North. At Greenwood Cemetery, we 
ordered a carriage for a drive through those lovely grounds. After 
first getting directions from the superintendent as to the location 
of a lot we wanted to find — it was one of three, Pears, Nesbitt and 
Williams — on the same hillside, with no fencing between, located 
near the famous Schermerhorn vault. The driver knew the locality, 
and off we started. Miss Emma recognized the lingo of our Jehu 
and pleasantly asked him from what part of the "Green Isle" he 
hailed. "The city of Cork, ma'am,'' said he. "Why, that is my 
city," Miss Emma responded; "and where did you live?" was the 
next inquiry. "King street," was the reply of the delighted Irish- 
man, giving the number. "I lived at the other end," said Miss 
Emma, pleased at the circumstance. And the balance of the drive 
was enlivened by the information imparted by Pat — who had visited 
Ireland since Miss E. emigrated. After going the route mapped 
out, the driver proposed to carry us through the new part, which was 
promptly agreed to, as we knew our friend was highly gratified with 
the conversation, and the gentlemanly manners of the driver. Re- 
turning to the entrance, while the two ladies were partaking of a 
light refreshment, I invited our manipulator of the whip to take a 
stimulant, which he with dignity proceeded to do. When I went 
to pay him for the use of the carriage, he asked me to let the half 
hour go as his treat — it was such a great satisfaction to talk with a 
fellow-countryman. I told him that I knew he had a living to work 
for, and so had I ; that I brought with me a certain amount of money, 
and when that was expended, I should leave for home and go to 
work. But he politely persisted, and I merely paid him for the two 
hours agreed upon. Just then a horse-car passed on its way to 
Brooklyn. "Oh, Jerusalem ! half an hour to wait for the next car," 
was my dissatisfied exclamation. "No, get the ladies to come at 
once and Til overhaul the car in short order," was the prompt reply. 
The others hurriedly got in, and we started and overtook the car. 
I offered the polite and liberal driver half a dollar, but he shook his 
head, whipped up his horses, and left us. 

In the summer of 1865, I paid another visit to Greenwood, Sun- 
day afternoon; stepped into the first carriage I saw, and said I 


wanted a short dryre through the grounds. As we moved off, the 
driver asked if I owned a lot in the cemetery, and if not, did I have 
a permit, otherwise I would not be admitted. "Go ahead," I replied ; 
"will see what can be done." He looked at me very hard, and when 
we were stopped at the entrance, I told the clerk the circumstances — 
that my wife's mother was buried there ; that I would leave for the 
South that night, and hoped he would violate his rule slightly, as I 
knew nothing about the permits. His reply was that I should be 
admitted. I commenced my usual request about directions to the 
Schermerhorn vault, etc., when my worthy Jehu spoke up pleasantly : 
"That's all right, Mr. Williams ; I know the gentleman, and where 
he wants to go;" adding, "I thought I recognized your Honor when 
you came up. I am delighted to see you. I drove you and two 
pleasant ladies ten years ago. How is your good mother?** **Very 
well, thank you," I replied. "And Miss Emma?** was his next 
query. "Poor Miss Emma has gone to her long home. She n)ar- 
ried, and while in a delicate situation exerted herself in coming* to 
see me (I had what was thought to be a severe attack of pneun^o- 
nia), and died a few days afterwards," I informed him. ' Vm very 
sorry; she was a perfect lady. She treated me very kindly, not 
knowing that I was anything more than a poor driver,** 

Two years ago, at the entrance to Greenwood, I had just ordereil 
a vehicle, when an elderly man addressed me: **Y()ur Honor is foml 
of driving." "Yes," I answered; "much prefer it to walking.** **I 
had the pleasure of driving you through the grounds years ago," 
he replied. It was our Irish acquaintance. He had given up \vt>rk, 
and was living quietly in the neighborhood. I passed him a quarter, 
with the suggestion that he should pledge my health, but he must 
excuse me. If I get in that section again, 1 will certainly try and 
find the ex-driver; but it is likely that he has departed ti^r the 
other world. I only refer to these circumstances to show how often 
we run up on persons by accident ; when at other times all attempts 
fail in trying to find those we are in search of. 

Cast Thy Bread, &c. 

In 1852, I paid my first visit to the Northern States. Left home 
with sufficient of the wherewithal to take me through, but by a lucky 
hit in the lottery of Pyfer & Co., Laight street, Baltimore, increased 
the amount by nearly $400. In peregrinating around New York, I 
happened to drop into a somewhat notorious house in Wooster street, 
termed now-a-days "tenderloin." Quite a modest-looking woman, 
calling herself "Ida Montressor," and seated in a corner, attracted 


my attention, and I got into conversation with Jj^ r. In the course 
of our chat, I remarked that she seemed out of place ; her reply was, 
that as soon as she could raise $1,000 (and she now had the better 
part of it deposited in bank), she intended to give up her present 
mode of life forever ; that she had an opportunity to buy a millinery, 
now doing a fair business, and as the town was rapidly growing, 
trade would likely increase. I left in a few minutes and went to my 
quarters, but I could not rest quietly. Dreams of the young woman, 
and the waking thoughts of her promised reformation, haunted me. 
The next morning I went to the Wooster house, had an interview 
with the landlady, and asked her candidly to tell me (a foolish piece 
of business, many persons would say,) if she believed that her 
boarder, Ida, meant what she said. Her reply was that she felt 
perfectly satisfied that she spoke the truth, and then mentioned some 
circumstances connected with her early life, but without giving the 
least hint as to who she really was or where she came from. Later 
in the day I saw the would-be milliner, and she assured me that she 
was firm in her determination. Much to her surprise, I handed her 
the necessary amount, and two days afterward had the pleasure of 
seeing her get aboard the Hudson River steamer "Henry Clay" 
(destroyed the same season by fire). I received several letters from 
Miss Ida during the next two or three years, in all of which she 
expressed herself thankful for the material aid furnished, and said 
her business had prospered wonderfully. About 1855, 1 spent a few 
hours in the town where my milliner protege resided, but did not 
call upon her — contenting myself with making inquiries in a round- 
about way with reference to her. I found that she stood well in 
the community, and was about to be married to a resident of the 
town of good family. Four months afterwards I received a paper 
containing the marriage notice. I afterwards learned that she had 
several children, and then the war came on. In the summer of 1865, 
business called me to New York, and I paid a short visit to the milli- 
ner. She had five children, was blessed with a kind husband, 
in business, enjoyed good health, and had made some profitable in- 
vestments. I bade her good-bye, and never saw her again. In 
1889, I received official notice that Mrs. Blank had departed this 
life, and by her will I was to receive $6,000. The family were 
anxious to see me, so the official stated, and to know why I was 
entitled to the sum mentioned. I paid no attention to the notifica- 
tion, as I could not frame any sort of a plausible statement — I would 
not tell the truth about the matter for the sake of the survivors. I 
suppose they think I am dead. So let it go at that. The bread 


cast upon the waters returned after many years, but in such a con- 
dition that it could not be partaken of. Perhaps a soul was saved. 
Who can. tell? 

Delays Are Dangerous. 

Mrs. Margaret Grey, the wife of the owner and captain of the 
ship "Eliza," which plied between Liverpool and Philadelphia, was 
a grand-aunt and god-mother of my mother. In 1824, a letter was 
received from her by my grand-mother (then living in Nassau, N. 
P., B. W. I.), stating they were getting old and tired of the sea, 
that they liked Philadelphia very much, and they thought of settling 
there. They had no children, and Mrs. Grey accompanied her hus- 
band on his voyages. That is the last letter that I ever heard any- 
thing about — ^there was no regular communication with the United 
States in those days. The male relatives of the family died, the 
slaves were emancipated, and the females and young children came 
to the United States — the majority of them settled in Key West, 
Florida, and there died, while two came to South Carolina. Al- 
though I had seen Mrs. Grey's letter several times, I never attached 
any importance to it. Ten or twelve years ago, I was chatting with 
a Philadelphian, and happened to bring up the matter in a casual 
way, when he replied that a friend of his was recorder of wills in 
the Quaker City, and that if I gave him the names of the captain 
and his wife, he would get his friend to look up the matter, and 
something might come of it. I carelessly remarked that it was too 
late now, as I supposed the parties had died long ago. The inquiry 
was made, and it was found that Mrs. Grey, relict of Capt. James 
Grey, had died in 1872, leaving her possessions to her "Grand-niece 
and god-child, Margaret Ann Scott," with the usual additions. I 
have spent several days in Philadelphia at different times, beginning 
with the spring of 1852. And so the matter ended, and the prop- 
erty, much or little, slipped through my fingers. My mother had 
died and no papers could be found. Take my advice and don't 
delay. If anything is worth doing, it is worth doing promptly. 

A Fortune in Hand — Let it Slip. 

Maj. Thos. Davis had 700 bales of cotton on his plantation, seve- 
ral miles below Columbia, which escaped the eagle eyes of Sher- 
man's exterminators. The fleecy necessary article was saved, but it 
brought trouble. The war ended, a speculator heard of the cotton, 
and offered the Major 65c. a pound for it, as it stood — ^not to be 
delivered in Columbia. The offer was refused, cotton went down 
in price and the bulk of the 700 bales was sold for about 12J^c. 
10— M 

146 me;morabiua and 

Money was borrowed at heavy interest to construct the building, 
since converted into the Columbia Hotel ; the old gentleman became 
partially demented and died, the mortgages were foreclosed, and the 
• heirs got literally nothing. I met the Major in New York, and in 
conversation, he brought up the subject of his cotton. I asked how 
he happened to allow such an offer (65c.) to slip through his hands. 
His reply was, in substance, "There had been no cotton grown in 
three or four years, and I felt sure the price would reach $1." "But," 
said I, "parties could not afford to work it up at that price — they 
would use linen goods." "They were forced to use it, cost what it 
might.'* "The government," was my reply; "not private individ- 
uals." "Well, that is true," he sadly responded. Here a small for- 
tune of $100,000 was allowed to slip away. The temptation was 
very great. 

Robbery of Scott & Williams' Bank. 

On Saturday night, April 16, 1870, the banking house of Scott, 
Williams & Co. (Geo. W. Williams, Esq., of Charleston, being the 
capitalist), east side of Main street, midway between Plain and 
Washington, was robbed — completely cleaned out of cash — in a very 
matter of fact style. There is not a shadow of doubt that parties in 
Columbia put up the job — a well known Radical office-holder being 
strongly suspected. The thieves secured their valuables and floated 
down the river, it is believed. What the money stolen really 
amounted to, nobody can tell. A great many creditors were not paid 
their just dues — ^the excuse being, "I lost $1,500 in gold by Scott's 
bank robbery," or "I lost all I had in Scott's bank," when it is doubt- 
ful whether they could have produced that many cents. "Four- 
fingered Jack," a noted burglar of that day, there is reason to be- 
lieve, manipulated the business. It is thought that the originators 
of the affair were "euchred" by the actual thieves. Hubbard, the 
State Detective, who was considered a veritable sleuth-hound, was 
accidentally absent from the city at the time. 

Crazy Darkeys Unknown, 

I never heard of but one crazy darkey in the days of slavery, and 
that was a woman belonging to Longenotti. Some thought it was 
religious excitement, but her owner took a different view of the 
case. He buried her up to her neck in his garden, where she re- 
mained two days, and came out cured. I remember seeing her many 
years afterwards. Reconstruction brought innumerable ills to 
Sambo — ^privilege to starve, have consumption, yellow fever and 

ane;cdotai. reminiscences. 147 


A Play Upon Names — Taylor, Physioc. 

For several months Dr. B.W. Taylor and Tailor Physioc occu- 
pied adjacent rooms in the Exchange Bank building, northeast cor- 
ner Main and Plain streets, now owned by Sylvan Brothers. The 
Taylor physicked, while the Physioc (or Physic, as he was more 
generally called) tailored. 

Ada, Sole Daughter, etc. 

Two very pretty young women lived next door neighbors, on 
south side Plain, near Bull street, until they reached early woman- 
hood — Ada Heise and Hart Meehan. They were an illustration of 
the second line of the third Canto of Byron's Childe Harold, "Ada, 
sole daughter of my house and heart'' — capitalize the Heart, how- 
ever. The combination was broken two years ago, as Ada departed 


An Italian, named Longenotti, had the misfortune to dislocate his 
arm, and carried it in a sling. Mr. Aleck Brodie, meeting the suf- 
ferer, said: "Hello, Longi, what's the matter with your arm?" 
"Deesloocatit," was the reply, holding up the affected member. "I 
don't want to look at it," said Mr. B. ''Deesloocatit," once more 
said Longi. This was continued several times, when Mr. B. gave 
him an invitation to visit other parts, and pursued his way up town, 
leaving the foreigner vainly endeavoring to express his troubles so 
he could be understood. A brother soon afterwards arrived and 
claimed Mrs. L. as his wife. The affair was settled satisfactorily, 
for the three lived in the same house several years, and finally 
•secured permanent abode in St. Peter's Church-yard. 

Education vs. Card Tricks, 

During Radical reign, when money was plentiful, card sharps got 
the advantage of many educated darkies. A case in point was a 
series of games between W. J. Whipper, a Northerner, claiming 
Beaufort as his home, and Charley Minort, a bright mulatto from 
this section, who could scarcely read. The game was continued 
several hours, and Minort, to use his own expression, "Won a hatful 
of money from Whipper." Money, bonds and jewelry were cap- 
tured by the successful card-player. I don't think Whipper ever 
recovered from his losses, as he has looked "seedy" ever since. 


How to Get Around Borrowers. 

A good-natured resident of Richland carried out an original idea 
as to borrowers of money. He called one of his pockets "The 
World," and made it a point never to put money in that receptacle. 
When an uncertain individual requested a loan, he would reply, 
"Haven't a cent in the world, I assure you." It worked capitally 
for a time, and he chuckled at the success of his dodge ; but one day, 
in a burst of confidence, he told the story and it got out. When he 
gave the stereotyped answer to a would-be borrower soon after, the 
applicant coolly replied, "Try the other pocket. Bob." He got the 

"Lover's Lane," or Twelve-Mile Drive. 

There is but little left of the famous double row of trees planted 
by Gen. Wade Hampton, Sr., extending nearly from the Bluff Road 
to the Mill Creek. Storms and the axe have removed the greater 
part of these monster beauties. The road was kept in perfect con- 
dition — a neat and substantial brick bridge carried you over the 
track of the South Carolina Railroad. The engaged young woman 
who did not enjoy one or more trips over this famous twelve-mile 
ride — down the Mill Creek Road to the Hampton private road, 
through his grounds, from "Millwood" to "Woodlands," then over 
the Bluff Road to Columbia again — ^would think that she had been 
left "out in the cold." The road now is sand and ruts; the brick 
bridge is gone; the Wilmington Railroad also cuts through the 
grounds, and the parties who make an attempt to go around, may 
thank Providence if they escape short of a broken vehicle or a dis- 
located limb. 

Great Many Ways to Barn Money. 

Money can be accumulated in a variety of ways — ^the trouble is to 
keep it. J. Duncan Allen, Esq., formerly Senator from Aiken, once 
told me how he got a financial start in the world. He obtained em- 
ployment on a pole-boat plying between Charleston and the up- 
country. Matches were something new and expensive. He would 
put up fat lightwood in packages, take it to Charleston and dispose 
of it for kindling purposes ; and invest the proceeds in these ready- 
lighters, which he would bring up and get rid of to the benighted 
ones. He afterwards married a Miss Myers, sister of Messrs. 
Robert and William, by whom he obtained quite a fortune — princi- 
pally in negroes. He once gave a dinner here for election purposes 
which was said to have cost $5,000. He died about twenty years 
ago, in very straitened circumstances. 


Accidental Destruction of Historic Tree. 

It is generally understood that the large oak tree which formerly 
stood in Green street, west side, near Main, and recently accidentally 
killed, was somewhat historic in its character. The Commissioners 
(Taylor, Earle and others) who selected and laid out the town of 
Columbia, held their daily meetings and partook of the necessary 
lunches (and, perhaps, punches) under its broad branches. 

How Betty Boyer Would Get a Drink, 

Mrs. Betty Boyer, of the Sand-hills, loved a nip of whiskey, and 
often being short of funds, would have to resort to skill to obtain the 
fluid. One of her devices was to take a so-called quart bottle and 
ask for a quart of whiskey; the bottle wouldn't hold it, of course, 
and the old woman would pleasantly say, *Xet me have that. Til 
drink it. Wrap up the bottle and put it aside, and FU come in for it 
when I go home." And that would be the last of it. 

Disappearance of Spanish Coin. 

Can anybody tell what has become of the old Spanish coins which 
were so common "before the war" — 6J4> 1^/4, 18 and 25 cents? 
you seldom saw any of greater value. They were called in this 
section fourpence, sevenpence, eighteen cents and quarters; in 
Louisiana, the small coins were termed fips and levies ; while in the 
Northern States sixpence, shilling, eighteenpence and two shillings. 
A United States five or ten-cent piece was seldom seen in those days ; 
and as for the dollars, they were bought by the jewelers at a pre- 
mium; but our old Spanish acquaintances, like Spain's land acqui- 
sitions, have disappeared. The quarters were often used for 
advertising purposes at the North, being often stamped : "Good for 
admission to Christy's Minstrels ;" "Good for a dinner at Williams," 

And the Beggar Died. 

The Rev. Mr. Wheeler, who was once pastor of the Washington 
Street Methodist Church, if he did not capture many souls, knew 
how to raise money for church purposes. Mr. Henry Davis was 
connected with another church, but generally responded to Mr. 
Wheeler's appeals. He had been waited upon several times with 
a "tale of woe," and finally said, "Mr. Wheeler, I will help you again, 
although it is only a short time since you appealed to me, if you will 
agree to let me dictate the inscription for your tomb-stone." "All 
right," responded Mr. W. "And the beggar died," said Mr. D. 
Mr. W. smiled, but never called for another contribution. 


A rsenal A cademy — Powder-Monk eys. 

About 1840, it was decided to convert the Arsenals in Columbia 
and Charleston into Military Academies, and require the students 
to look after the arms as a part of their duties. The town boys 
and the military students didn't agree — ^the latter being denominated 
"powder-monkeys" by the former, from the fact that in firing salutes, 
the youthful soldiers would run rapidly to and fro between cannon 
and caisson for ammunition. A good many difficulties occurred, 
but the trouble soon petered out. 

IV hy Didn't I Say Two Hundred? 

Our genial friend, Mrs. M. W. Stratton, used to tell a joke on 
herself, illustrating the point that we are never satisfied. Skinner 
Smith, Esq., a member of the Legislature, was boarding with her 
during the session. One day she was sitting in the dining room, 
looking and feeling very disconsolate for the want of some ready 
money. Mr. S. came in and noticing her quiet manner, inquired 
the reason, as she was generally lively and had something pleasant 
to say to every one. "If I had $100," replied Mrs. Stratton, "I would 
be perfectly happy." The Representative from Laurens opened his 
pocket-book and handed her the money, with the remark, "That as 
fine a woman as she was shouldn't be unhappy for such an amount." 
Mrs. S. thanked him earnestly ; but when he went out, couldn't help 
saying, in an under-tone, "Why didn't I say $200 ?" 

Bating Steaks from a Live Turtle. 

Bob Franklin was a good-hearted saloon-keeper, who occupied 
the "Cottage House" for several years. He secured an immense 
turtle and invited a number of friends to come oiie Sunday and par- 
take of steak and eggs from the big carcase. Among a number of 
others. Dad Wadlow, the well known sport, was on hand. After 
disposing of a goodly amount of the delicacies. Bob invited the 
feeders to come out and see the frame, and the crowd proceeded to 
the yard, where, under a tree, apparently comfortably reclining on a 
table, was Mrs. Turtle, her heart beating regularly as if nothing had 
happened. "The darned thing's alive, and we've been eating it!" 
yelled Dad, and hurriedly left for a convenient spot, and when dis- 
covered he was apparently doing his level best to cast up his toe- 
nails. The moral of which is, keep away from the kitchen and its 
surroundings. Bob was delighted at the result of his joke, and he 
had "one on Dad," as he expressed it. The turtle did not gpive up 
the ghost for several hours. 


Lost the spoons. 

The morning after the Shermanizing, Mr. John Dorsey was saun- 
tering along, when a soldier handed him a package of spoons, say- 
ing he CQuld make use of them, perhaps. "If they were silver, Fd 
take care of them." Dorsey looked at them, and, without thinking, 
said: "They are engraved, and must be silver." "Is that so?" said 
the soldier, and repossessed himself of the useful articles. Dorsey 
said he wanted to kick himself. 

She Knew It was There, 


An elderly colored woman, Harriet Smith, was very fond of wear- 
ing tucked petticoats. On one occasion my mother was talking with 
the old creature, while she was arranging her newly-washed gar- 
ments on the clothes-line ; one of the tucks got raised, and she noticed 
lace underneath. Making an examination, she found that all the 
tucks in the garment were so arranged. "Why, Aunt Harriet," ex- 
claimed my mother; "what's the use of that — nobody can see the 
lace." "I knows it's there," was the response ; "and that's enough." 

Saved His Horse. 

John A. Crawford, Esq., was the owner of a bob-tailed horse that 
he appreciated very highly. I don't pretend to say that he raced 
the animal, but it's very sure that if any one attempted to pass him 
on the road, his animal stepped out in a way that showed he could 
get over ground in a hurry. Finding that Sherman's men were 
appropriating stock, he muffled the horse's feet and led him up into 
the second story of his dwelling (southeast corner of Blanding and 
Bull streets), and foiled the robbers. The house still stands, but 
owner and animal have passed away. 

'Til Have to Take it, Sam." 

In the old days, salts, senna, magnesia, boneset, composition tea, 
castor oil. No. 6, blue mass, snake-root, and bleeding formed the 
pharmacopoeia of most folks. Mrs. Bay, a well known resident, 
who occupied the premises southwest corner of Senate and Bull 
streets, had a petted waiting man named Sam, who had been sick 
for several days. His mistress could not diagnose the case, but she 
mixed a dose of salts and snake-root — a horrible mess — for Sam.; 
but he objected to taking it, saying he needed something else, which 
he suggested. Finally, not willing to waste the medicine, she said, 
"Well, Sam, if you think it wont help you, don't take it ; but it's a 
shame to throw it away, so I'll take it." And she did. 


Give Them a Homestead. 

A bill providing exemption of the homestead from debt was being 
discussed, when a member with an inquiring mind asked how that 
would help a poor man, who didn't have a homestead ? Mr. Smith 
jumped up and in a loud tone of voice replied, "I say, make a law 
to gpive every poor man one." The idea gratified his listeners. 

Russell's Botanical Garden. 

p/ This famous resort of fifty years ago was on the northeast corner 
of Main and Senate streets — ^now part of the State Capitol grounds. 
It contained an immense collection and variety of flowers and herbs, 
a mystic maze, etc. Mr. Robert Russell, the originator and owner 
of the garden, did not long survive the sale of the property — to use 

x^^ a hackneyed expression, it broke his heart. His tomb-stone is in 
xjne of the paths in Trinity Church-yard. 

Haunted Ground — Blmwood Cemetery. 

"Tickleberry" was the name of the plot of ground now used as 
Elmwood Cemetery. It was said to be **haunted" by the colored 
people, but I never heard any reason assigned for the cognomen. It 
was converted into a cemetery in 1852, and the first occupant was a 
child of one of the professors in the South Carolina College. It has 
certainly filled rapidly, although a great many bodies have been 
transferred from other depositories. 

The Irishman and the German. 

The sons and daughters of Erin give **taffy" naturally, while the 
natives of King William's dominions come down heavy, like their 
bread. As a sample : A short time ago, I congratulated one of the 
latter, who had just returned from a trip across the water, on his 
improved appearance, and asked if he thought some of the fine beer, 
cheese and pretzels, which he had been describing, would increase 
my avoirdupois. "Too old," was his curt reply. The next day, on 
coming from dinner, I addressed an Irish friend, saying I had just 
been to perform one of the pleasant duties of the day, but that I did 
not fatten. "Wait till you get old," was his pleasant reply. In nine 
times out of ten, invite an Irishman to join you in a drink, and when 
asked what he will have, the inquiry is, "What are you going to 
take?" and he duplicates it. If he extends an invitation to you, the 
result is the same. Our German crony will take beer — "you drink 
what you like." 


Singular Coincidence. 

Dr. W. E. Evans, Rector of Trinity Church, in this city, many 
years ago, it is said, studied for the stage, but finding that his family 
were bitterly opposed to the idea, he gave it up, prepared for the 
'ministry, and his declamation and actions in the pulpit showed the 
ability of the man and his adaptability to the profession he proposed 
to follow originally. The singular circumstance connected with the 
matter is this : Dr. Evans was called to and accepted the rectorship 
of the Monumental Church, in Richmond, Va. — erected to com- 
memorate the burning of the theatre in that city, on the night of 
December 24, 1811. 

Pastor Fifty-two Years, 

The Rev. Peter J. Shand served Trinity Church faithfully for 
fifty-two years. In several cases it is known that he christened, mar- 
ried and buried individuals. His rectorate began in the wooden 
edifice on the southeastern corner of Gervais and Sumter streets. 
By-the-way, the question is often asked as to several graves in the 
corner of the lot — ^the bodies being laid "across the world." It was 
owing to the narrow space left in the construction of the building 
for the entrance. Among the distinguished occupants of the grave- 
yard are Gen. Peter Horry, Governors Manning and Generals and 
Colonel Wade Hampton. 

Didn't Want Watered Liquor. 

The firm of Pollock, Solomon & Co., southwest corner Richard- 
son and Plain streets — ^groceries, hardware, dry goods, wet goods, 
etc. — wholesale and retail, was well known and respected until the 
winding up of the business by the death of the head of the concern, 
in the forties. New Orleans was the great market then for sugar, 
molasses, rum, whiskey, etc. Mr. Lewis Levy was the buyer and 
trading man of the firm, and I have often heard him tell of his ex- 
tensive trips through the West on horse-back — agoing as far as Cin- 
cinnati, Ohio. They were in the habit of buying liquor above 
proof, and reducing it afterwards, giving a good shake-up, and it 
was then all right. A lot of the fluid had been received, and the 
spring water added, but the shake-up had not been attended to. A 
customer called for a sample, before giving his order, and was fur- 
nished with water drawn directly from a barrel. He was disgusted ; 
explanations were useless ; he didn't want watered liquor, and with- 
drew his patronage. 




Written by Wm, Gilmore Simms, Esq,, for the Phoenix. 

It has pleased God, in that Providence which is so inscrutable to 
man, to visit our beautiful city with the most cruel fate which can ever 
befall States or cities. He has permitted an invading army to pene- 
trate our country almost without impediment ; to rob and ravage our 
dwellings, and to commit three-fifths of our city to the flames. 
Eighty-four squares, out of one hundred and twenty-four ( ?) which 
the city contams, have been destroyed, with scarcely the exception of 
a single house. The ancient capitol building of the State — ^that 
venerable structure, which, for seventy years, has echoed with the 
eloquence and wisdom of the most famous statesmen — is laid in 
ashes ; six temples of the Most High God have shared the same fate ; 
eleven banking establishments ; the schools of learning, the shops of 
art and trade, of invention and manufacture ; shrines equally of reli- 
gion, benevolence and industry; are all buried together, in one 
congregated ruin. Humiliation spreads her ashes over our homes 
and garments, and the universal wreck exhibits only one common 
aspect of despair. It is for us, as succinctly but as fully as possible, 
and in the simplest language, to endeavor to make the melancholy 
record of our wretchedness as complete as possible. 

When, by a crime, no less than blunder. General Johnston was re- 
moved from the command of the Confederate armies in Georgia, 
A^hich he had conducted with such signal ability, there were not a 
few of our citizens who felt the impending danger, and trembled at 
the disastrous consequences which they partly foresaw. The re- 
moval of a General so fully in the confidence of his troops, who had 
so long baffled the conquests, if he could not arrest the march, of the 
opposing army, was of itself a proceeding to startle the thoughtful 
mind. General Sherman declared his satisfaction at the event, and 
on repeated occasions since has expressed himself to the same effect. 
He was emboldened by the change, and almost instantly after, his 
siiccej^scs became rapid and of the most decided character. 

General Johnston was by nature, no less than training and educa- 
tion, the very best of the Confederate generals to be opposed to 
General Sherman. To the nervo-sanguine temperament, eager and 
impetuous, of the latter, he opposed a moral and physical nature — 
calm, sedate, circumspect; cool, vigilant and wary — always patient 
and watchful of his moment — never rash or precipitate, Ijut ever 
firm and decisive — ^his resources all regulated by a self-possessed 


will, and a mind in full possession of that military coup d' oeil 
which, grasping the remotest relations of the field, is, probably, the 
very first essential to a general having the control of a large and 
various army. 

The error which took Hood into the colder regions of Tennessee, 
at the beginning of winter, was one which the Yankee general was 
slow to imitate, especially as, in so moving, Hood necessarily left all 
the doors wide open which conducted to the seaboard. It required 
no great effort of genius to prompt the former to take the pathways 
which were thus laid open to him. Even had he not already con- 
ceived the propriety of forcing his way to the Atlantic coast, and 
to a junction with his shipping, the policy of then doing so would 
have been forced upon him by the proceeding of his rival, and by 
the patent fact that there were no impediments to such a progress. 
We had neither army nor general ready to impede his march. It 
suggested itself. The facility of such a progress was clear enough, 
and, with that quickness of decision which distinguishes the tempera- 
ment of Sherman, he at once rushed into the open pathway. 

The hasty levies of regular troops, collected by Hardee, and the 
clans of scattered militia, gathered with great difficulty and un- 
trained to service, were rather calculated to provoke his enterprise 
than to impede his march, and, laying waste as he went, after a 
series of small and unimportant skirmishes, he made his way to the 
coast, made himself master of Savannah, and, from the banks of that 
river, beheld, opened before him, all the avenues into and through 
South Carolina. It is understood that Hardee had in hand, to 
oppose this progress, something less than ten thousand men, while 
the force of Sherman was, in round numbers, something like fifty 
thousand, of which thirty-three thousand consisted of infantry — ^the 
rest of artillery and cavalry. 

The destruction of Atlanta, the pillaging and burning of other 
towns of Georgia, and the subsequent devastation along the march 
of the Federal army through Georgia, gave sufficient earnest of the 
treatment to be anticipated by South Carolina, should the same com- 
mander be permitted to make a like progress in our State. The 
Northern press furnished him the cri de guerre to be sounded when 
he should cross our borders. ''Vae victis!" — woe to the conquered ! 
— in the case of a people who had first raised the banner of secession. 
"The howl of delight/' (such was the language of the Northern 
press,) sent up by Sherman's legions, when they looked across the 
Savannah to the shores of Carolina, was the sure forerunner of the 
terrible fate which threatened our people should the soldiers be once 



let loose upon our lands. Our people felt all the danger. They 
felt it required the first abilities, the most strenuous exertions, the 
most prompt and efficient reinforcements, to prevent the threatening 

Hardee, though of acknowledged ability, and considered able as 
the leader of a corps, was not the man to grasp the business of a 
large army. All eyes looked to General Johnston as the one man, 
next to Lee, to whom the duty should be confided and the trust. It 
was confidently hoped and believed that he would be restored to the 
command, and that adequate reinforcements would be furnished. 
At all events, no one doubted that, with adequate supplies of men 
and material, Johnston would most effectually arrest the farther pro- 
gress of Sherman's army. 

Applications of the most urgent entreaty were addressed by our 
delegates and leading men in the Confederate Congress to President 
Davis, urging these objects. But he declined to restore the com- 
mander whom he had so greatly wronged, and, in respect to rein- 
forcements, these were too tardily furnished, and in too small num- 
ber, to avail much in offering requisite resistance. The reinforce- 
ments did not make their appearance in due season for a concentra- 
tion of the strength at any one point, and opposition to Sherman, 
everywhere, consisted of little more than a series of small skirmishes, 
without result on either side. No pass was held with any tenacity ; 
no battle fought; Sherman was allowed to travel one hundred and 
fifty miles of our State, through a region of swamp and thicket, in 
no portion of which could a field be found adequate to the display of 
ten thousand men, and where, under good partisan leaders, the Fede- 
rals might have been cut off in separate bodies, their supplies 
stopped, their march constantly embarrassed by hard fighting, and 
where, a bloody toll exacted at every defile, they must have found a 
Thermopylae at every five miles of their march. The Confederates 
had no partisan fighting, as in days of old. They had a system,- 
which insisted upon artillery as paramount — insisted upon arbitrary 
lines for defence, chosen without any regard to the topography of 
the country. "We will make a stand," said the Confederate chiefs, 
"at this river crossing or that ;" then fall back to the next river, and 
so on to the last. Although in a thousand places of dense swamp, 
narrow defile, and almost impenetrable thicket, between these rivers, 
it would have been easy to find spots where three hundred men, 
under competent commanders, who knew the country, might most 
effectually have bafHed three thousand. 

The march of the Federals into our State was characterized by 


such scenes of license, plunder and general conflagration, as very 
soon showed that the threats of the Northern press, and of their 
soldiery, were not to be regarded as mere brutum fulmen. Day by 
day brought to the people of Columbia tidings of atrocities com- 
mitted, and more extended progress. Daily did long trains of fugi- 
tives line the roads, with wives and children, and horses and stock 
and cattle, seeking refuge from the pursuers. Long lines of wagons 
covered the highways. Half-naked people cowered from the winter 
under bush tents in the thickets, under the eaves of houses, under the 
railroad sheds, and in old cars left them along the route. All these 
repeated the same story of suffering, violence, poverty and naked- 
ness. Habitation after habitation, village after village — one send- 
ing up its signal flames to the other, presaging for it the same fate — 
lighted the winter and midnight sky with crimson horrors. 

No language can describe nor can any catalogue furnish an ade- 
quate detail of the wide-spread destruction of homes and property. 
Granaries were emptied, and where the grain was not carried off, it 
was strewn to waste under the feet of the cavalry or consigned to 
the fire which consumed the dwelling. The negroes were robbed 
equally with the whites of food and clothing. The roads were cov- 
ered with butchered cattle, hogs, mules and the costliest furniture. 
Valuable cabinets, rich pianos, were not only hewn to pieces, but 
bottles of ink, turpentine, oil, whatever could efface or destroy, was 
employed to defile and ruin. Horses were ridden into the houses. 
People were forced from their beds, to permit the search after hid- 
den treasures. 

The beautiful homesteads of the parish country, with their won- 
derful tropical gardens, were ruined; ancient dwellings of black 
cypress, one hundred years old, which had been reared by the fathers 
of the republic — ^men whose names were famous in Revolutionary 
history — were given to the torch as recklessly as were the rude 
hovels; choice pictures and works of art, from Europe, select and 
numerous libraries, objects of peace wholly, were all destroyed. 
The inhabitants, black no less than white, were left to starve, com- 
pelled to feed only upon the garbage to be found in the abandoned 
camps of the soldiers. The corn scraped up from the spots where 
the horses fed, has been the only means of life left to thousands but 
lately in affluence. And thus plundering, and burning, the troops 
made their way through a portion of Beaufort into Barnwell Dis- 
trict, where they pursued the same game. The villages of Buford's 
Bridge, of Barnwell, Blackville, Graham's, Bamberg, Midway, were 
more or less destroyed ; the inhabitants everywhere left homeless and 


without food. The horses and mules, all cattle and hogs, whenever 
fit for service or for food, were carried off, and the rest shot. Every 
implement of the workman or the farmer, tools, plows, hoes, gins, 
looms, wagons, vehicles, was made to feed the flames. 

From Barnwell to Orangeburg and Lexington was the next pro- 
gress, marked everywhere by the same sweeping destruction. Both 
of these court towns were partially burned. 

These tidings duly reached the people of Columbia, and might 
have prepared them for the treatment they were destined to receive. 
Daily accessions of fugitives, bringing with them their valuables 
and provisions, made ample report of the progress of the Federal 
army. Hundreds of families had seasonably left long before, in 
anticipation of the danger. Columbia was naturally held to be one 
of the most secure places of refuge. It was never doubted that this 
capital city, which contained so many of the manufactures of the 
Confederate Gk)vernment, the Treasury, &c., would be defended with 
all the concentrated vigor of which the Confederacy was capable, 
especially, too, as upon the several railroads connected with the city, 
the army of Lee and the safety of Richmond were absolutely de- 
pendent. Young women of family were sent in large numbers to a 
city, where numbers seemed to promise a degree of security not to 
be hoped for in any obscure rural abode. The city was accordingly 
doubled in population, and here also was to be found an accumula- 
tion of wealth, in plate, jewels, pictures, books, manufactures of art 
and virtu, not to be estimated — not, perhaps, to be paralleled in any 
other town of the Confederacy. In many instances, the accumula- 
tions were those of a hundred years — of successive generations — in 
the hands of the oldest families of the South. A large proportion 
of the wealth of Charleston had been stored in the capital city, and 
the owners of these treasures, in many instances, were unable to 
effect any farther remove. If apprehensive of the danger, they 
could only fold their hands, and, hoping against hope, pray for 
escape from a peril to which they could oppose no farther vigilance 
or effort. 

Still, the lurking belief with most persons, who apprehended the 
approach of the Federal army, encouraged the faith that, as the city 
was wholly defenceless, in the event of a summons, it would be sur- 
rendered upon the usual terms, and that these would necessarily in- 
sure the safety of non-combatants and protect their property. But, 
in truth, there was no small portion of the inhabitants who denied or 
doubted, almost to the last moment, that Sherman contemplated any 
serious demonstration upon the city. They assumed — ^and this idea 


was tacitly encouraged, if not believed, by the authorities, military 
and civil — ^that the movement on Columbia was but a feint, and that 
the bulk of his army was preparing for a descent upon Charleston. 
This also seemed to be the opinion in Charleston itself. 

All these conjectures were speedily set at rest, when, on the 13th 
February (Monday), the Federal army was reported to have reached 
a point in Lexington District, some ten miles above Jeffcoat's. 
On the 14th, their progress brought them to Thom's Creek, the 
stream next below Congaree Creek, and about twelve miles below the 
city. Here the Confederate troops, consisting of the mounted men of 
Hampton, Wheeler, Butler, &c., made -stubborn head against Sher- 
man, holding him in check by constant skirmishing. This skirmish- 
ing continued throughout Wednesday, but failed to arrest his pro- 
gress; and as the Federal cannon continued momently to sound 
more heavily upon our ears, we were but too certainly assured of the 
hopelessness of the struggle. The odds of force against the Con- 
federates were too vast for any valor or generalship to make head 
against it ; and yet, almost to this moment, the hope was held out to 
the people, in many quarters, that the city could be saved. It was 
asserted that the corps of Cheatham and Stewart were making 
forced marches, with the view to a junction with the troops under 
Beauregard, and, such was the spirit of the Confederate troops, and 
one of the Generals at least, that almost at the moment when Sher- 
man's advance was entering the town, Hampton's cavalry was in 
order of battle, and only waiting the command to charge it. But 
the horrors of a street fight in a defenceless city, filled with women 
and children, were prudently avoided; and the Confederate troops 
were drawn off from the scene at the very hour when the Federals 
were entering upon it. But we anticipate. 

Whatever hopes might have been entertained of the ultimate suc- 
cess of our defences, they were all dissipated, when, by daylight, on 
the 16th (Thursday), the Confederate troops re-entered the city, 
burning the several bridges over the Congaree, the Broad and Saluda 
Rivers. They were quartered through the day about the streets, 
and along their several bivouacs they dug slight excavations in the 
earth, as for rifle pits and for protection from the shells, which fell 
fast and thick about the town. The shelling commenced the even- 
ing before, and continued throughout the night and the next day. 
No summons for surrender had been made ; no warning of any kind 
was given. New batteries were in rapid progress of erection on the 
west side of the Congaree, the more effectually to press the work of 
destruction. The damage was comparatively slight. The new 


Capitol building was struck five times, but suffered little or no injury. 
Numerous shells fell into the inhabited portions of the town, yet 
we hear of only two persons killed — one on the hospital square, and 
another near the South Carolina Railroad depot. The venerable 
Mr. S. J. Wagner, from Charleston, an aged citizen of near eighty, 
narrowly escaped with life, a shell bursting at his feet. His face 
was excoriated by the fragments, and for a while his eye-sight was 
lost ; but we are happy to state that the hurts were slight, and he is 
now as well as ever. 

On Wednesday, the 15th, the city was placed under martial law, 
and the authority confided to General E. M. Law, assisted by Mayor 
Goodwyn and Captains W. B. Stanley and John McKenzie. With 
characteristic energy, this officer executed his trusts, and was em- 
ployed day and night in the maintenance of order. This, with some 
few exceptions, was surprisingly maintained. There was some 
riotous conduct after night. Some highway robberies were com- 
mitted, and several stores broken open and robbed. But, beyond 
these, there were but few instances of crime and insubordination. 

Terrible, meanwhile, was the press, the shock, the rush, the hurry, 
the universal confusion — such as might naturally be looked for, in 
the circumstances of a city from which thousands were preparing 
to fly, without previous preparations for flight — burdened with pale 
and trembling women, their children and portable chattels — ^trunks 
and jewels, family Bibles and the lares familiar es. The railroad depot 
for Charlotte was crowded with anxious waiters upon the train — with 
a wilderness of luggage, millions, perhaps, in value — ^much of which 
was left finally and lost. Throughout Tuesday, Wednesday and 
Thursday, these scenes of struggle were in constant performance. 
The citizens fared badly. The Governments of the State and of the 
Confederacy absorbed all the modes of conveyance. Transportation 
about the city could not be had, save by a rich or favored few. No 
love could persuade where money failed to convince, and SEL^, grow- 
ing bloated in its dimensions, stared one from every hurrying aspect, 
as you traversed the excited and crowded streets. In numerous 
instances, those who succeeded in getting away, did so at the cost of 
trunks and luggage; and under what discomfort they departed, no 
one who did not see can readily conceive. 

The end was rapidly approaching. The guns were resounding at 
the gates. Defence was impossible. At a late hour on Thursday 
night, the Governor, with his suite and a large train of officials, de- 
parted. The Confederate army began its evacuation, and by day- 
light few remained who were not resigned to the necessity of seeing 

ane:cdotai. reminisce:nces. 161 

the tragedy played out. After all the depletion, the city contained, 
according to our estimate, at least twenty thousand inhabitants, the 
larger proportion being females and children and negroes. Hamp- 
ton's cavalry, as we have already mentioned, lingered till near 10 
o'clock the next day, and scattered groups of Wheeler's command 
hovered about the Federal army at their entrance into the town. 

The inhabitants were startled at daylight, on Friday morning, by 
a heavy explosion. This was the South Carolina Railroad Depot. 
It was accidentally blown up. Broken open by a band of plunderers, 
among whom were many females and negroes, their reckless greed 
precipitated their fate. This building had been made the receptacle 
of supplies from sundry quarters, and was crowded with stores of' 
merchants and planters, trunks of treasure, innumerable wares and 
goods of fugitives — all of great value. It appears that, among its 
contents, were some kegs of powder. The plunderers paid, and 
suddenly, the penalties of their crime. Using their lights freely and 
hurriedly, the better to pick, they fired a train of powder leading to 
the kegs. The explosion followed, and the number of persons de- 
stroyed is variously estimated, from seventeen to fifty. It is proba- 
ble that not more than thirty-five suffered, but the actual number 
perishing is unascertained. 

At an early hour on Friday, the commissary and quartermaster 
stores were thrown wide, the contents cast out into the streets and 
given to the people. The negroes especially loaded themselves with 
plunder. All this might have been saved, had the officers been duly 
warned by the military authorities of the probable issue of the strug- 
gle. Wheeler's cavalry also shared largely of this plunder, and 
several of them might be seen, bearing oiF huge bales upon their 

It was proposed that the white flag should be displayed from the 
tower of the City Hall. But General Hampton, whose command 
had not yet left the city, and who was still eager to do battle in its 
defence, indignantly declared that if displayed, he should have it 
torn down. 

The following letter from the Mayor to General Sherman was the 
initiation of the surrender : 

Mayor's Office, Coi<umbia, S. C, February 17, 1865. 

To Major General Sherman: The Confederate forces having 
evacuated Columbia, I deem it my duty, as Mayor and representative 
of the city, to ask for its citizens the treatment accorded by the 
usages of civilized warfare. I therefore respectfully request that 
you will send a sufficient guard in advance of the army, to maintain 
11— M 


order in the city and protect the persons and property of the citizens. 
Very respectfully, your obedient servant, 

T. J. GOODWYN, Mayor. 

At 9 o'clock, on the painfully memorable morning of the 17th 
February (Friday), a deputation from the City Council, consisting 
of the Mayor, Aldermen McKenzie, Bates and Stork, in a carriage 
bearing a white flag, proceeded towards the Broad River Bridge 
Road. Arriving at the forks of the Winnsboro Road, they discov- 
ered that the Confederate skirmishers were still busy with their guns, 
playing upon the advance of the Federals. These were troops of 
General Wheeler. This conflict was continued simply to afford the 
main army all possible advantages of a start in their retreat. General 
Wheeler apprised the deputation that his men would now be with- 
drawn, and instructed them in what manner to proceed. The depu- 
tation met the column of the Federals, under Captain Piatt, who 
sent them forward to Colonel Stone, who finally took his seat with 
them in the carriage. The advance belonged to the 15th corps. 

The Mayor reports that on surrendering the city to Colonel Stone, 
the latter assured him of the safety of the citizens and of the protec- 
tion of their property, while under his command. He could not 
answer for General Sherman, who was in the rear, but he expressed 
the conviction that he would fully confirm the assurances which he 
(Colonel Stone) had given. Subsequently, General Sherman did 
confirm them, and that night, seeing that the Mayor was exhausted 
by his labors of the day, he counselled him to retire to rest, saying, 
"Not a finger's breadth, Mr. Mayor, of your city shall be harmed. 
You may lie down to sleep, satisfied that your town shall be as safe 
in my hands as if wholly in your own." Such was very nearly the 
language in which he spoke; such was the substance of it. He 
added: "It will become, my duty to destroy some of the public or 
Government buildings; but I will reserve this performance to an- 
other day. It shall be done to-morrow, provided the day be calm." 
And the Mayor retired with this solemnly asserted and repeated 

About 11 o'clock, the head of the column, following the deputa- 
tion — the flag of the United States surmounting the carriage — 
reached Market Hall, on Main street, while that of the corps was 
cairied in the rear. On their way to the city, the carriage was 
stopped, and the officer was informed that a large body of Confede- 
rate cavalry was flanking them. Colonel Stone said to the Mayor, 
"We shall hold you responsible for this!" The Mayor explained, 
that the road leading to Winnsboro, by which the Confederates were 


retreating, ran nearly parallel for a short distance with the river 
road, which accounted for the apparent flanking. Two officers, who 
arrived in Columbia ahead of the deputation (having crossed the 
river at a point directly opposite the city), were fired upon by one of 
Wheeler's cavalry. We are particular in mentioning this fact, as 
we learn that, subsequently, the incident was urged as a justifica- 
tion of the sack and burning of the city. 

Hardly had the troops reached the head of Main street, when the 
work of pillage was begun. Stores were broken open within the 
first hour after their arrival, and gold, silver, jewels and liquors, 
eagerly sought. The authorities, officers, soldiers, all, seemed to 
consider it a matter of course. And woe to him who carried a 
watch with gold chain pendant ; or who wore a choice hat, or over- 
coat, or boots or shoes. He was stripped in the twinkling of an eye. 
It is computed that, from first to last, twelve hundred watches were 
transferred from the pockets of their owners to those of the soldiers. 
Purses shared the same fate ; nor was the Confederate currency re- 
pudiated. But of all these things hereafter, in more detail. 

At about 12 o'clock, the jail was discovered to be on fire from 
within. This building was immediately in rear of the Market, or 
City Hall, and in a densely built portion of the city. The supposi- 
tion is that it was fired by some of the prisoners — ^all of whom were 
released and subsequently followed the army. The firq of the jail 
had been preceded by that of some cotton piled in the streets. Both 
fires were soon subdued by the firemen. At about half-past 1 P. M., 
that of the jail was rekindled, and was again extinguished. Some 
of the prisoners, who had been confined at the Asylum, had made 
their escape, in some instances, a few days before, and were secreted 
and protected by citizens. No one felt safe in his own dwelling; 
and, in the faith that General Sherman would respect the Convent, 
and have it properly guarded, numbers of young ladies were con- 
fided to the care of the Mother Superior, and even trunks of clothes 
and treasure were sent thither, in full confidence that they would find 
safety. Vain illusions ! The Irish Catholic troops, it appears, were 
not brought into the city at all ; were kept on the other side of the 
river. But a few Catholics were collected among the corps which 
occupied the city, and of the conduct of these, a favorable account is 
given. One of them rescued a silver goblet of the church, used as a 
drinking cup by a soldier, and restored it to the Rev. Dr. O'Connell. 
This priest, by the way, was severely handled by the soldiers. Such, 
also, was the fortune of the Rev. Mr. Shand, of Trinity (the Episco- 
pal) Church, who sought in vain to save a trunk containing the 


sacred vessels of his church. It was violently wrested from his keep- 
ing, and his struggle to save it only provoked the rougher usage. 
We are since told that, on reaching Camden, General Sherman re- 
stored what he believed were these vessels to Bishop Davis. It has 
since been discovered that the plate belonged to St. Peter's Church in 

And here it may be well to mention, as suggestive of many clues, 
an incident which presented a sad commentary on that confidence in 
the security of the Convent, which was entertained by the great por- 
tion of the people. This establishment, under the charge of the 
sister of the Right Rev. Bishop Lynch, was at once a convent and an 
academy of the highest class. Hither were sent for education the 
daughters of Protestants, of the most wealthy classes throughout the 
State ; and these, with the nuns and those young ladies sent thither 
on the emergency, probably exceeded one hundred. The Lady 
Superior herself entertained the fullest confidence in the immunities 
of the establishment. But her confidence was clouded, after she had 
enjoyed a conference with a certain major of the Yankee army, who 
described himself as an editor, from Detroit. He visited her at an 
early hour in the day, and announced his friendly sympathies with 
the Lady Superior and the sisterhood ; professed his anxiety for their 
safety — his purpose to do all that he could to insure it — declared that 
he would instantly go to Sherman and secure a chosen guard ; and, 
altogether, made such professions of love and service, as to disarm 
those suspicions, which his bad looks and bad manners, inflated 
speech and pompous carriage, might otherwise have provoked. The 
Lady Superior, with such a charge in her hands, was naturally glad 
to welcome all shows and prospects of support, and expressed her 
gratitude. He disappeared, and soon after reappeared, bringing 
with him no less than eight or ten men — none of them, as he ad- 
mitted, being Catholics. He had some specious argument to show 
that, perhaps, her guard had better be one of Protestants. This sug- 
gestion staggered the lady a little, but he seemed to convey a more 
potent reason, when he added, in a whisper : "For I must tell you, my 
sister, that Columbia is a doomed cityT Terrible doom! This 
officer, leaving his men behind him, disappeared, to show himself no 
more. The guards so left behind were finally among the most busy 
as plunderers. The moment that the inmates, driven out by the fire, 
were forced to abandon their house, they began to revel in its con- 

Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? — who shall guard the guards? — 
asks the proverb. In a number of cases, the guards provided for the 


citizens were among the most active plunderers : were quick to betray 
their trusts, abandon their posts, and bring their comrades in to join 
in the general pillage. The most dexterous and adroit of these, it is 
the opinion of most persons, were chiefly Eastern men, or men of 
immediate Eastern origin. The Western men, including the Indiana, 
a portion of the Illinois and Iowa, were neither so dexterous nor un- 
scrupulous — were frequently faithful and respectful ; and, perhaps, it 
would be safe to assert that many of the houses which escaped the 
sack and fire, owed their safety to the presence or the contiguity of 
some of these men. But we must retrace our steps. 

It may be well to remark that the discipline of the soldiers, upon 
their first entry into the city, was perfect and most admirable. There 
was no disorder or irregularity on the line of march, showing that 
their officers had them completely in hand. They were a fine looking 
body of men, mostly young and of vigorous formation, well clad and 
well shod, seemingly wanting in nothing. Their arms and accoutre- 
ments were in bright order. The negroes accompanying them were 
not numerous, and seemed mostly to act as drudges and body ser- 
vants. They groomed horses, waited, carried burdens, and, in almost 
every instance under our eyes, appeared in a purely servile, and not 
a militar)', capacity. The men of the West treated them generally 
with scorn or indifference, sometimes harshly, and not unfrequently 
with blows. 

But, if the entrance into town and while on duty, was indicative of 
admirable drill and discipline, such ceased to be the case the moment 
the troops were dismissed. Then, whether by tacit permission or 
direct command, their whole deportment underwent a sudden and 
rapid change. The saturnalia soon began. We have shown that 
the robbery of peFsons of the citizens and the plunder of their homes 
commenced within one hour after thev had reached the Market Hall. 
It continued without interruption throughout the day. Sherman, at 
the head of his cavalry, traversed the streets everywhere — so did his 
officers. Subsequently, these officers were everywhere on foot, yet 
beheld nothing which required the interposition of authority. And 
yet robbery was going on at every corner — in nearly every house. 
Citizens generally applied for a guard at their several houses, and. 
for a time, these guards were allotted them. These might be faithful 
or not. In some cases, as already stated, they were, and civil and 
respectful ; considerate of the claims of women, and never trespass- 
ing upon the privacy of the family ; but, in numbers of cases, they 
were intrusive, insulting and treacherous — leaving no privacy undis- 
turbed, passing without a word into the chambers and prying into 


every crevice and corner. But the reign of terror did not fairly 
begin till night. In some instances, where parties complained of 
the misrule and robbery, their guards said to them, with a chuckle : 
"This is nothing. Wait till to-night, and you'll see h— 11." 

Among the first fires at evening was one about dark, which broke 
out in a filthy purlieu of low houses, of wood, on Gervais street, 
occupied mostly as brothels. Almost at the same time, a body ofc the 
soldiers scattered over the Eastern outskirts of the city, fired sever- 
ally the dwellings of Mr. Secretary Trenholm, General Wade Hamp- 
ton, Dr. John Wallace, Mr. J. U. Adams, Mrs. Starke, Mr. Latta, 
Mrs. English, and many others. There were then some twenty fires in 
full blast, in as many different quarters, and while the alarm sounded 
from these quarters, a similar alarm was sent up almost simultane- 
ously from Cotton Town, the northernmost limit of the city, and from 
Main street in its very centre, at the several stores or houses of O. Z. 
Bates, C. D. Eberhardt, and some others, in the heart of the most 
densely settled portion of the town ; thus enveloping in flames almost 
every section of the devoted city. At this period, thus early in the 
evening, there were few shows of that drunkenness which prevailed 
at a late hour in the night, and only after all the grocery shops on 
Main street had been rifled. The men engaged in this were well 
prepared with all the appliances essential to their work. They did 
not need the torch. They carried with them, from house to house, 
pots and vessels containing combustiWe liquids, composed probably 
of phosphorus and other similar agents, turpentine, &c. ; and, with 
balls of cotton saturated in this liquid, with which they also over- 
spread floors and walls, they conveyed the flames with wonderful 
rapidity from dwelling to dwelling. Each had his ready box of 
Lucifer matches, and, with a scrape upon the walls, the flames began 
to rage. Where houses were closely contiguous, a brand from one 
was the means of conveying destruction to the other. 

The winds favored. They had been high throughout the day, and 
steadily prevailed from southwest by west, and bore the flames east- 
ward. To this fact we owe the preservation of the portions of the 
city lying west of Assembly street. 

The work, begun thus vigorously, went on without impediment 
and with hourly increase throughout the night. Engines and hose 
were brought out by the firemen, but these were soon driven from 
their labors — which were indeed idle against such a storm of fire — 
by the pertinacious hostility of the soldiers ; the hose was hewn to 
pieces, and the firemen, dreading worse usage to themselves, left the 
field in despair. Meanwhile, the flames spread from side to side. 


from front to rear, from street to street, and where their natural and 
inevitable progress was too slow for those who had kindled them, 
they helped them on by the application of fresh combustibles and 
more rapid agencies of conflagration. By midnight. Main street, 
from its northern to its southern extremity, was a solid wall of fire. 
By 12 o'clock, the great blocks, which included the banking houses 
and the Treasury buildings, were consumed; Janney's (Congaree) 
and Nickerson's Hotels ; the magnificent manufactories of Evans & 
Cogswell — indeed, every large block in the business portion of the 
city; the old Capitol and all the adjacent buildings were in ruins. 
The range called the "Granite" was beginning to flame at 12, and 
might have been saved by ten vigorous men, resolutely working. 

At 1 o'clock, the hour was struck by the clock of the Market Hall, 
which was even then illuminated from within. It was its own last 
hour which it sounded, and its tongue was silenced forevermore. In 
less than five minutes after, its spire went down with a crash, and, by 
this time, almost all the buildings within the precinct were a mass of 

Very grand, and terrible, beyond description, was the awful spec- 
tacle. It was a scene for the painter of the terrible. It was the 
blending of a range of burning mountains stretched in a continuous 
series for more than a mile. Here was ^tna, sending up its spouts 
of flaming lava ; Vesuvius, emulous of like display, shooting up with 
loftier torrents, and Stromboli, struggling, with awful throes, to 
shame both by its superior volumes of fluid flame. The winds were 
tributary to these convulsive efforts, and tossed the volcanic torrents 
hundreds of feet in air. Great spouts of flame spread aloft in cano- 
pies of sulphurous cloud — wreaths of sable, edged with sheeted 
lightnings, wrapped the skies, and, at short intervals, the falling 
tower and the tottering wall, avalanche-like, went down with thun- 
derous sound, sending up at every crash great billowy showers of 
glowing fiery embers. 

Throughout the whole of this terrible scene the soldiers continued 
their search after spoil. The houses were severally and soon gutted 
of their contents. Hundreds of iron safes, warranted "impenetrable 
to fire and the burglar,*' it was soon satisfactorily demonstrated, 
were not "Yankee proof.'' They were split open and robbed, yield- 
ing, in some cases, very largely of Confederate money and bonds, if 
not of gold and silver. Jewelry and plate in abundance was found. 
Men could be seen staggering off with huge waiters, vases, cande- 
labra, to say nothing of cups, goblets and smaller vessels, all of solid 
silver. Clothes and shoes, when new, were appropriated — ^the rest 


left to burn. Liquors were drank with such avidity as to astonish 
the veteran Bacchanals of Columbia; nor did the parties thus dis- 
tinguishing themselves hesitate about the vintage. There was no 
idle discrimination in the matter of taste, from that vulgar liquor, 
which Judge Burke used to say always provoked within him, "an 
inordinate propensity to sthale," to the choicest red wines of the 
ancient cellars. In one vault on Main street, seventeen casks of wine 
were stored away, which, an eye-witness tells us, barely sufficed, once 
broken into, for the draughts of a single hour — such were the appe- 
tites at work and the numbers in possession of them. Rye, corn, 
claret and Madeira all found their way into the same channels, and 
we are to wonder, when told that no less than one hundred and fifty 
of the drunken creatures perished miserably among the flames kin- 
dled by their own comrades, and from which they were unable to 
escape. The estimate will not be thought extravagant by those who 
saw the condition of hundreds after 1 o'clock A. M. By others, 
however, the estimate is reduced to thirty ; but the number will never 
be known. Sherman's officers themselves are reported to have said 
that they lost more men in the sack and burning of the city (includ- 
ing certain explosions) than in all their fights while approaching it. 
It is also suggested that the orders which Sherman issued at day- 
light, on Saturday morning, for the arrest of the fire, were issued in 
consequence of the loss of men which he had thus sustained. One 
or more of his men were shot, by parties unknown, in some dark 
passages or alleys — it is supposed in consequence of some attempted 
outrages which humanity could not endure ; the assassin taking ad- 
vantage of the obscurity of the situation and adroitly mingling with 
the crowd without. And while these scenes were at their worst — 
while the flames were at their highest and most extensively raging — 
groups might be seen at the several corners of the streets, drinking, 
roaring, revelling — while the fiddle and accordeon were playing their 
popular airs among them. There was no cessation of the work till 
5 A. M. on Saturday. 

A single thought will suffice to show that the owners or lodgers in 
the houses thus sacrificed were not silent or quiet spectators of a 
conflagration which threw them naked and homeless under the skies 
of night. The male population, consisting mostly of aged men, in- 
valids, decrepits, women and children, were not capable of ver>'' 
active or powerful exertions ; but they did not succumb to the fate 
without earnest pleas and strenuous efforts. Old men and women 
and children were to be seen, even while the flames were rolling 
and raging around them, while walls were crackling and rafters tot- 


tering and tumbling, in the endeavor to save their clothing and some 
of their most valuable eiFects. It was not often that they were suf- 
fered to succeed. They were driven out headlong. 

Ladies were hustled from their chambers — ^their ornaments 
plucked from their persons, their bundles from their hands. It was in 
vain that the mother appealed for the garments of her children. They 
were torn from her grasp and hurled into the flames. The young 
girl striving to save a single frock, had it rent to fibres in her grasp. 
Men and women bearing off their trunks were seized, despoiled, in a 
moment the trunk burst asunder with the stroke of an axe or gun- 
butt, the contents laid bare, rifled of all the objects of desire, and the 
residue sacrificed to the fire. You might see the ruined owner, 
standing woe-begone, aghast, gazing at his tumbling dwelling, his 
scattered property, with a dumb agony in his face that was inex- 
pressibly touching. Others you might hear, as we did, with wild 
blasphemies assailing the justice of Heaven, or invoking, with lifted 
and clenched hands, the fiery wrath of the avenger. But the soldiers 
plundered and drank, the fiery work raged, and the moon sailed over 
all with as serene an aspect as when she first smiled upon the ark 
resting against the slopes of Ararat. Such was the spectacle for 
hours on the chief business street of Columbia. 

We have intimated that, at an early hour in the day, almost every 
house was visited by groups, averaging in number from two to six 
persons. Some of these entered civilly enough, but pertinaciously 
entered, in some cases, begging for milk, eggs, bread and meat — in 
most cases, demanding them. The kitchens were entered by one 
party, while another penetrated the dwelling, and the cook was fre- 
quently astounded by the audacity by which the turkey, duck, fowl or 
roast was transferred from the spit to the wallet of the soldier. In the 
house, parties less meek of temper than these pushed their way, and 
the first intimation of their presence, as they were confronted at the 
entrance, was a pistol clapped at the head or bosom of the owner, 
whether male or female. "Your watch !'' "Your money !" was the 
demand. Frequently, no demand was made. Rarely, indeed, was a 
word spoken, where the watch or chain, or ring or bracelet, pre- 
sented itself conspicuously to the eye. It was incontinently plucked 
away from the neck, breast or bosom. Hundreds of women, still 
greater numbers of old men, were thus despoiled. The slightest 
show of resistance provoked violence to the person. The venerable 
Mr. Alfred Huger was thus robbed in the chamber and presence of 
his family, and in the eye of an almost dying wife. He offered 
resistance, and was collared and dispossessed by violence. We are 


told that the venerable ex-Senator, Colonel Arthur P. Hayne, was 
treated even more roughly. Mr. James Rose, besides his watch, lost 
largely of choice wines, which had been confided to his keeping. 
But we cannot descend to examples. In the open streets the pick- 
pockets were mostly active. A frequent mode of operating was by 
first asking you the hour. If thoughtless enough to reply, produc- 
ing the watch or indicating its possession, it was quietly taken from 
hand or pocket, and transferred to the pocket of the "other gentle- 
man," with some such remark as this : "A pretty little watch that, 
ril take it myself; it just suits me." And the appropriation fol- 
lowed ; and if you hinted any dislike to the proceeding, a grasp was 
taken of your collar and the muzzle of a revolver put to your ear. 
Some of the incidents connected with this wholesale system were 
rather amusing. Dr. Templeton, a well known and highly esteemed 
citizen, passing along the street, was accosted by a couple of these 
experts, who stopped and asked him, pointing to the arsenal building, 
on the hill opposite, "What building is that?" "The State Arsenal," 
was his reply, unwisely extending his arm, as he pointed, in turn, to 
the building, and revealing between the folds of his coat the shining 
links of a rich gold chain. Before he could recover himself, his 
chain and watch were in the grasp of the thief, who was preparing to 
transfer it to his own pocket, quietly remarking, "A very pretty little 
watch; just to my liking." "That is very cool," said Templeton. 
"Just my way," said the fellow, walking off. "Stop," said Temple- 
ton, half amazed at the coolness of the proceeding, and feeling that 
he had only to put the best face on the matter. "Stop; that watch 
will be of no use to you without the key; won't you take that also?" 
"All right," replied the robber, returning and receiving the key. 
The question, "What's o'clock," was the sure forerunner of an at- 
tempt upon your pocket. Some parties saved their chronometers by 
an adroitness which deserves to be made known. One individual re- 
plied to the question : "You are too late, my good fellows. I was 
asked that question already by one of your parties, at the other cor- 
ner." He left them to infer that the watch was already gone, and 
they passed him by. We are told of one person who, being thus 
asked for the time of day by three of them, in a street in which he 
could see no other of their comrades, thrust a revolver suddenly into 
their faces, and cocking it quickly, cried out, "Look for yourselves." 
They sheered off and left him. We, ourselves, were twice asked the 
question the morning after the fire, and looking innocently to where 
the City Hall clock once stood, replied, "Our city clock is gone, you 
see; but it must be near 11." Mr. J. K. Robinson was assailed with 


the same question by a party in the neighborhood of his house. He 
denied that he had a watch. "Oh ! look, look !" was the answer of 
the questioner. "I need not look," quoth Robinson, "since I have 
not a watch." "Look, look — a man of your appearance must own a 
watch." "Well, I do; but it is at my home — at my house." 
"Where's your house ? We'll go and see." He took them into his 
house, suddenly called his guard and said, "These men are pursuing 
me ; I know not what they want." The guard drove out the party, 
with successive thrusts at them of the bayonet, and from the street, 
defrauded of their spoils, they saluted house guard and owner with 
all manner of horrid execrations. Hundreds of like anecdotes are 
told, not merely of loss in watches, but of every other article of prop- 
erty. Hats and boots, overcoats and shawls — these, when new and 
attractive, were sure to be taken. Even the negroes were despoiled, 
whenever the commodity was of any value. An incident occurred, 
which, though amusing to read of, could not have been very pleasant 
to one of the party engaged at least. A gentleman was directed to 
break in the heads and empty the contents of some forty barrels of 
whiskey stored at the Fair Grounds. He had proceeded with the 
job only so far as breaking in the heads of the barrels, when a num- 
ber of soldiers entered the building, and stopped all further proceed- 
ing. They charged him with poisoning the liquor, and forced him 
to take a drink from every barrel, before they would touch the con- 
tents. The consequence was, that he was drunk for over a week. 

Within the dwellings, the scenes were of more harsh and tragical 
character, rarely softened by any ludicrous aspects, as they were 
screened by the privacy of the apartment, with but few eyes to wit- 
ness. The pistol to the bosom or the head of women, the patient 
mother, the trembling daughter, was the ordinary introduction to 
the demand, "Your gold, silver, watch, jewels." They gave no 
time, allowed no pause or hesitation. It was in vain that the woman 
offered her keys, or proceeded to open drawer, or wardrobe, or cabi- 
net, or trunk. It was dashed to pieces by axe or gun-butt, with the 
cry, "We have a shorter way than that !" It was in vain that she 
pleaded to spare her furniture, and she would give up all its con- 
tents. All the precious things of a family, such as the heart loves to 
pore on in quiet hours when alone with memory — the dear minia- 
ture, the photograph, the portrait — ^these were dashed to pieces, 
crushed under foot, and the more the trembler pleaded for the object 
so precious, the more violent the rage which destroyed it. Nothing 
was sacred in their eyes, save the gold and silver which they bore 
awav. Nor were these acts those of common soldiers. Commis- 


sioned officers, of rank so high as that of a colonel, were frequently 
among the most active in spoliation, and not always the most tender 
or considerate in the manner and acting of their crimes. And, after 
glutting themselves with spoil, would often utter the foulest 
speeches, coupled with oaths as condiment, dealing in what they 
assumed, besides, to be bitter sarcasms upon the cause and country. 
*'And what do you think of the Yankees now ?" was a frequent ques- 
tion. "Do you" not fear us, now?" "What do you think of seces- 
sion ?" &c., &c. "We mean to wipe you out ! We'll burn the very 
stones of South Carolina." Even General Howard, who is said to 
have been once a pious parson, is reported to have made this reply 
to a citizen who had expostulated with him on the monstrous crime 
of which his army had been guilty: "It is only what the country 
deserves. It is her fit punishment ; and if this does not quiet rebel- 
lion, and we have to return, we will do this work thoroughly. We 
will not leave woman or child." 

Almost universally, the women of Columbia behaved themselves 
nobly under their insults. They preserved that patient, calm de- 
meanor, that simple, almost masculine firmness, which so becomes 
humanity in the hour of trial, when nothing can be opposed to the 
tempest but the virtue of inflexible endurance. They rarely replied 
to these insults ; but looking coldly into the faces of the assailants, 
heard them in silence and with unblenching cheeks. When forced 
to answer, they did so in monosyllables only, or in brief, stern lan- 
guage, avowed their confidence in the cause of their country, the 
principles and rights for which their brothers and sons fought, and 
their faith in the ultimate favor and protection of Gk)d. One or two 
of many of these dialogues — if they may be called such, where one 
of the parties can urge his speech with all the agencies of power for 
its enforcement, and with all his instruments of terror in sight, while 
the other stands exposed to the worst terrors which maddened pas- 
sions, insolent in the consciousness of strength — may suffice as a 
sample of many: "Well, what do you think of the Yankees now?" 
"Do you expect a favorable opinion?" "No! d — n it! But you 
fear us, and that's enough." "No — we do not fear you." "What! 
not yet?" "Not yet !" "But you shall fear us." "Never !" "We'll 
make you." "You may inflict, we can endure; but fear — ^never! 
Anything but that." "We'll make you fear us !" clapping a revolver 
to the lady's head. Her eye never faltered. Her cheek never 
changed its color. Her lips were firmly compressed. Her arms 
folded on her bosom. The eye of the assassin glared into her own. 
She met the encounter without flinching, and he lowered the imple- 


ment of murder, with an oath : "D — n it ! You have pluck enough 
for a whole regiment !" In a great many cases the guard behaved 
themselves well, using their utmost endeavors to protect the prop- 
erty under their charge, even to the use of the bayonet. An officer, 
Lieutenant McQueen, stopped with Dr. Wm. Reynolds, and during 
the fire worked manfully, and was the means of saving the residence 
from destruction. His gentlemanly manners won the respect and 
confidence of the family, and when he was on the point of leaving, 
the doctor gave him a letter, signed by several gentlemen, acknow- 
ledging his grateful feelings for the manner in which he had been 
treated ; saying that the fortunes of war might some time place him 
in a position that the letter might be of use to him. This proved to 
be the case. At the skirmish near Lynches Creek, this officer was 
wounded and captured. On showing the letter to a friend of Dr. 
Reynolds, who happened to be in the hospital, he was removed to a 
private house, every attention shown him, and when he was able to 
move, a special parole was obtained for him, and he returned to his 

The "pluck" of our women was especially a subject of acknow- 
ledgment. They could admire a quality with which they had not soul 
to sympathize — or rather the paramount passion for greed and plun- 
der kept in subjection all other qualities, without absolutely extin- 
guishing them from their minds and thoughts. To inspire terror in 
the weak, strange to say, seemed to them a sort of heroism. To extort 
fear and awe appeared to their inordinate vanity a tribute more grate- 
ful than any other, and a curious conflict was sometimes carried on 
in their minds between their vanity and cupidity. Occasionally 
they gave with one hand, while they robbed with another. Several 
curious instances of this nature took place, one of which must suf- 
fice. A certain Yankee officer happened to hear that an old acquaint- 
ance of his, whom he had known intimately at West Point and 
Louisiana, was residing in Columbia. He went to see him after the 
fire, and ascertained that his losses had been very heavy, exceeding 
two hundred thousand dollars. The parties had not separated for 
an hour, when a messenger came from the Yankee, bringing a box, 
which contained one hundred thousand dollars in Confederate notes. 
This the Yankee begged his Southern friend to accept, as helping to 
make up his losses. The latter declined the gift, not being alto- 
gether satisfied in conscience with regard to it. In many cases. 
Confederate money by the handful was bestowed by the officers and 
soldiers upon parties from whom they had robbed the last particles 
of clothing, and even General Sherman could give to parties, whom 


he knew, the flour and bacon which had been taken from starving 
widows and orphans. So he left with the people of Columbia a 
hundred old muskets for their protection, while emptying their arse- 
nals of a choice collection of beautiful Enfield rifles. And so the 
starving citizens of Columbia owe to him a few hundred starving 
cattle, which he had taken from the starving people of Beaufort, 
Barnwell, Orangeburg and Lexington — cattle left without food, and 
for which food could not be found, and dying of exhaustion at the 
rate of fifteen to twenty head per diem. 

In this connection and this section, in which we need to devote so 
much of our space to the cruel treatment of our women, we think it 
proper to include a communication from the venerable Dr. Sill, one 
of the most esteemed and well-known citizens of Columbia. It is 
from his own pen, and the facts occurred under his own eyes. We 
give this as one of a thousand like cases, witnessed by a thousand 
eyes, and taking place at the same time in every quarter of the city, 
almost from the hour of the arrival of the army to that of its depart- 
ure. He writes as follows : 

"On Thursday, the day before the evacuation of the city by the 
Confederate forces, I invited a very poor French lady (Madame 
Pelletier), with her child, refugees from Charleston, to take shelter 
in my house, where they might, at least, have such protection as I 
could give her, shelter and food for herself and child. She was 
poor, indeed, having very little clothing, and only one or two imple- 
ments — a sewing machine and a crimping apparatus — ^by means of 
which she obtained a precarious support. My own family (happily) 
and servants being all absent, and being myself wholly incapacitated 
by years of sickness from making any exertion, all that the poor 
widow woman and myself could remove from my house, besides the 
few things of hers, consisted of two bags of flour, a peck of meal, 
and about the same of grist, and about thirty pounds of bacon and a 
little sugar. These few things we managed to get out of the house, 
and, by the aid of a wheelbarrow, removed about fifty yards from the 
burning buildings. Waiting then and there, waiting anxiously the 
progress and direction of the fire, we soon found that we had been 
robbed of one bag of flour and a trunk of valuable books of account 
and papers. The fire continuing to advance on us, we found it 
necessary to remove again. About this time, there came up a stal- 
wart soldier, about six feet high, accoutred with pistols. Bowie-knife, 
&c., and stooping down over the remaining bag of flour, demanded 
of the poor French lady what the bag contained. Having lost, but 
a few moments before, almost everything she had in the way of 


provisions, she seemed most deeply and keenly alive to her destitute 
situation, in the event she should lose the remaining bag of flour, 
the last and only hope of escape from starvation of her child and 
herself. She fell upon her knees, with hands uplifted, in a suppli- 
cating manner, and most piteously and imploringly set forth her 
situation — an appeal which, under the circumstances, it would be 
impossible to conceive, more touching or heart-rending. She told 
him she was not here of her own choice; that herself and husband 
had come to Charleston in 1860 to better their fortunes; that they 
had been domiciled in New Jersey, where her husband had taken the 
necessary steps to become a citizen of the United States. She had in 
her hand his papers vouching the truth of her statement; that her 
husband had died of yellow fever in Charleston ; that being unable, 
from want of the means, to return to New Jersey, she had been 
driven from Charleston to Columbia (a refugee, flying from the 
enemy's shells), to try to make an honest support for herself and 
child. To all this, he not only turned a deaf ear, but deliberately 
drew from his breast a huge shining Bowie-knife, brandished it in 
her face, rudely pushed her aside, using, at the same time, the most 
menacing and obscene language; shouldered the bag of flour, and 
marched off, leaving the poor starving creature, with her helpless 
child, overwhelmed with grief and despair. E. Sill." 

This surely is very piteous to hear, and were the case an isolated 
one, it would probably move compassion in every heart ; but where 
the miseries of like and worse sort, of a whole community of twenty 
thousand, are massed, as it were, together before the eyes, the 
sensibilities become obtuse, and the universal suffering seems to de- 
stroy the sensibilities in all. We shall not seek to multiply instances 
like the foregoing, which would be an endless work and to little 

General Sherman tells General Hampton that, could he find any 
civil authority, and could they provide him with forage and provi- 
sions, he would suffer no foraging upon the people. His logic and 
memory are equally deficient. Was there no Mayor and Council in 
Columbia ? They had formally surrendered the city into his hands. 
They constituted the civil authority; but he made no requisition 
upon them for provisions for his troops. He did not say to them, 
"Supply me with twenty thousand rations in so many hours." Had 
he done so, the rations would have been forthcoming. The citizens 
would have been only too glad, by yielding up one-half of their 
stores, to have saved the other half, and to have preserved their 
dwellings from the presence of the soldiers. Nay, did not the in- 


dwellers of every house — we will say five thousand houses — seek at 
his hands a special guard — which usually consisted of two men — and 
were not these fed wholly by the families where they lodged during 
the whole time of their stay ? Here, by a very simple computation, 
we find that ten thousand soldiers were thus voluntarily provided 
with rations; and a requisition for twenty thousand men might 
easily and would probably have been provided, had any such been 
made ; for the supplies in the city were abundant of every sort — the 
population generally having laid in largely, and without stint or 
limit, anticipating a period of general scarcity from the march of the 
enemy. But, even had the people been unable to supply these pro- 
visions — even had the Council failed to respond to these requisitions 
— at whose doors should the blame be laid ? The failure would have 
been the direct consequences of General Sherman's own proceedings. 
Had he not ravaged and swept, with a besom of fire, all the tracts of 
country upon which the people of Columbia depended for their 
supplies ? Had he not, himself, cut off all means of transportation, 
in the destruction, not only of the railways, but of every wagon, cart, 
vehicle, on all the plantations through which he had passed — carry- 
ing off all the beasts of burden of any value, and cutting the throats 
of the remainder? He cuts off the feet and arms of a people, and 
then demands that they shall bring him food and forage I But even 
this pretext, if well grounded, can avail him nothing. He was 
suffering from no sort of necessity. It was the boast of every officer 
and soldier in his army, that he had fed fat upon the country through 
which he had passed; everywhere finding abundance, and had not 
once felt the necessity of lifting the cover from his own wagons, and 
feeding from his own accumulated stores. But the complaint of 
Hampton, and of our people at large, is not that he fed his followers 
upon the country, but that he destroyed what he did not need for 
food, and tore the bread from the famishing mouths of a hundred 
thousand women and children — feeble infancy and decrepit age. 

We have adverted to the outrages which were perpetrated within 
the households of the citizen, where, unrestrained by the rebuking 
eyes of their own comrades, and unresisted by their interposition, 
cupidity, malignity and lust, sought to glut their several appetites. 
The cupidity generally triumphed over the lust. The greed for gold 
and silver swallowed up the more animal passions, and drunkenness 
supervened in season for the safety of many. We have heard of 
some few outrages, or attempts at outrage, of the worst sort, but the 
instances, in the case of white females, must have been very few. 
There was, perhaps, a wholesome dread of goading to desperation the 


people whom they had despoiled of all but honor. They could see, 
in many watchful and guardian eyes, the lurking expression which 
threatened sharp vengeance, should their trespasses proceed to 
those extremes which they yet unquestionably contemplated. The 
venerable Mr. H — stood ready, with his couteau de chasse, made 
bare in his bosom, hovering around the persons of his innocent 
daughters. Mr. O — , on beholding some too familiar approach to 
one of his daughters^ bade the man stand oif at the peril of his life ; 
saying that while he submitted to be robbed of property, he would 
sacrifice life without reserve — ^his own and that of the assailant — 
before his child's honor should be abused. Mr. James G. Gibbes 
with difficulty, pistol in hand, and only with the assistance of a Yan- 
kee officer, rescued two young women from the clutches of as many 
ruffians. We have been told of successful outrages of this unmen- 
tionable character being practiced upon women dwelling in the 
suburbs. Many are understood to have taken place in remote coun- 
try settlements, and two cases are described where young negresses 
were 'brutally forced by the wretches and afterwards murdered — 
one of them being thrust, when half dead, head down, into a mud 
puddle, and there held until she was suffocated. But this must 
suffice. The shocking details should not now be made, but that we 
need, for the sake of truth and humanity, to put on record the horrid 
deeds. And yet, we should grossly err if, while showing the for- 
bearance of the soldiers in respect to our white women, we should 
convey to any innocent reader the notion that they exhibited a like 
forbearance in the case of the black. The poor negroes were terri- 
bly victimized by their assailants, many of them, besides the instance 
mentioned, being left in a condition little short of death. Regiments, 
in successive relays, subjected scores of these poor women to the 
torture of their embraces, and — ^but we dare not further pursue the 
subject. There are some horrors which the historian dare not pur- 
sue — which the painter dare not delineate. They both drop the 
curtain over crimes which humanity bleeds to contemplate. 

Some incidents of gross brutality, which show how well prepared 
were these men for every crime, however monstrous, may be given. 
A lady, undergoing the pains of labor, had to be borne oirt on a 
mattress into the open air, to escape the fire. It was in vain that her 
situation was described as the soldiers applied the torch within and 
without the house, after they had penelwated every chamber and 
robbed them of all that was either valuable or portable. They be- 
held the situation of the sufferer, and laughed to scorn the prayer 
for her safety. Another lady, Mrs. J , was but recently con- 

12— M 


fined. Her condition was very helpless. Her life hung upon a hair. 
The men were apprised of all the facts in the case. They burst into, 
the chamber — ^took the rings from the lady's fingers — ^plucked the 
watch from beneath her pillow, and so overwhelmed her with terror, 
that she sunk under the treatment — surviving their departure but a 
day or two. In several instances, parlors, articles of crockery, and 
even beds, were used by the soldiers as if they were water closets. 
In one case, a party used vessels in this wayj then put them on the 
bed, fired at and smashed them to pieces, emptying the filthy con- 
tents over the bedding. In several cases, newly made graves were 
opened, the coffins taken out, broken open, in search of buried trea- 
sure, and the corpses left exposed. Every spot in grave-yard or 
garden, which seemed to have been recently disturbed, was sounded 
with sword, or bayonet, or ramrod, in their desperate search after 

In this grave connection, we have to narrate a somewhat pictur- 
esque transaction, less harsh of character and less tragic, and pre- 
serving a somewhat redeeming aspect to the almost uniform brutality 

of our foes. Mr. M. M. C had a guard given him for his home, 

who not only proved faithful to their trust, but showed themselves 
gentle and unobtrusive. Their comrades, in large numbers, were 
encamped on the adjoining and vacant lands. These latter pene- 
trated his grounds, breaking their way through the fences, and it 
was not possible, where there were so many, to prevent their aggres- 
sion entirely. The guard kept them out of the dwelling, and 
preserved its contents. They were not merely civil, but amused the 
children of the family ; played with them, sympathized in their fun, 
and contributed to their little sports in sundry ways. The children 
owned a pretty little pet, a grey-hound, which was one of the most 
interesting of their sources of enjoyment. The soldiers without 
seemed to remark this play of the guard with the children and dog 
with discontent and displeasure. They gave several indications of 
a morose temper in regard to them, and, no doubt, they considered 
the guard with hostility, per se, as guard, and because of their faith- 
ful protection of the family. At length, their displeasure prompted 
one of them to take an active but cruel part in the pastimes of the 
children. Gathering up a stone, he watched his moment, and 
approaching the group, where they were at play, suddenly dashed 
out the brains of the little dog, at the very feet of the children. They 
were terribly frightened, of course, at this cruel exhibition of power 
and malignity. Their grief followed in bitter lamentations and 
tears. To soothe them, the soldiers of the guard took up the remains 


of the dog, dug for it a grave in one of the flower beds of the gar- 
den, tenderly laid it in the earth, and raised a mound over it, pre- 
cisely as if it had been a human child. A stake at the head and feet 
rendered the proceeding complete. That night, Mr. C , re- 
turning home, his wife remarked to him : "We have lost our silver. 
It was buried in the very spot where these men have buried the dog. 
They have no doubt found it, and it is lost to us." It was impossible 
then to attempt any search for the relief of their anxiety, until the 
departure of the troops. When they had gone, however, the search 
was eagerly made, and the buried treasure found untouched. But 
the escape was a narrow one. The cavity made for the body of the 
dog approached within a few inches the box of silver. Mayor Good- 
wyn also saved a portion of his plate through the fideKty of his 
guard. But he lost his dwelling and everything besides. We be- 
lieve that, in every instance where the guard proved faithful, they 
were Western men. They professed to revolt at the spectacles of 
crime which they were compelled to witness, and pleaded the neces- 
sity of a blind obedience to orders, in justification of their share of 
the horrors to which they lent their hands. Just before the confla- 
gration began, about the dusk of evening, while the Mayor was con- 
versing with one of the Western men, from Iowa, three rockets were 
shot up by the enemy from the capitol square. As the soldier beheld 
these rockets, he cried out : "Alas I alas ! for your poor city ! It is 
doomed. Those rockets are the signal. The town is to be fired." 
In less than twenty minutes after, the flames broke out in twenty 
distinct quarters. Similar statements were made by other soldiers 
in different quarters of the city. 

Of the conflagration itself, we have already given a sufficient idea, 
so far as words may serve for the description of a scene which beg- 
gars art and language to portray. We have also shown, in some 
degree, the usual course of procedure among the soldiers ; how they 
fired the dwelling as they pillaged ; how they abused and outraged 
the in-dwellers ; how they mocked at suffering, scorned the pleadings 
of women and innocence. As the flames spread from house to 
house, you could behold, through long vistas of the lurid empire of 
flames and gloom, the miserable tenants of the once peaceful home 
issuing forth in dismay, bearing the chattels most useful or precious, 
and seeking escape through the narrow channels which the flames 
left them only in the centre of the streets. Fortunately, the streets 
of Columbia are very wide, and greatly protected by umbrageous 
trees, set in regular order, and which, during the vernal season, con- 
fer upon the city one of its most beautiful features. But for this 



width of its passages, thousands must have been burned to death. 
These families moved in long procession, the aged sire or grand-sire 
first — a sad, worn and tottering man, walking steadily on, with rigid, 
set features and tearless eyes — ^too much stricken, too much stunned, 
for any ordinary shows of suffering. Perhaps, the aged wife hung 
upon one arm, while the other was supported by a daughter. And 
huddling close, like terrified partridges, came the young, each bear- 
ing some little bundle — all pressing forward under the lead of the 
sire, and he witless where to go. The ascending fire-spouts flamed 
before them on every hand — shouts assailed them at every step — ^the 
drunken soldiers danced around them as they went, piercing their 
ears with horrid threats and imprecations. The little bundles were 
snatched from the grasp of their trembling bearers, torn open, and 
what was not appropriated, was hurled into the contiguous pile of 
flame. And group after group, stream after stream of fugitives 
thus pursued their way through the paths of flaming and howling 
horror, only too glad to fling themselves on the open ground, 
whither, in some cases, they had succeeded in conveying a feather 
bed or mattress. The malls, or open squares, the centres of the wide 
streets, like Assembly street, were thus strewn with piles of bedding, 
on which lay exhausted mothers — some of them with anxious phy- 
sicians in attendance, and girdled by crouching children and infants, 
wild and almost idiotic with their terrors. In one case, as we have 
mentioned, a woman about to become a mother was thus borne out 
from a burning dwelling. It was scarcely possible to advise in which 
direction to fly. The churches were at first sought by many several 
streams of population. But these were found to afford no security 
— ^the churches of God were set on flame. Again driven forth, num- 
bers made their way into the recesses of Sidney Park, and here 
fancied to find security, as but few houses occupied the neighbor- 
hood, and these not sufficiently high to lead to apprehension from the 
flames. But fire-balls were thrown from the heights into the deepest 
hollows of the park, and the wretched fugitives were forced to 
scatter, finding their way to other places of retreat, and finding none 
of them secure. 

One of these mournful processions of fugitives was that of the 
sisterhood of the Convent, the nuns and their pupils. Beguiled to 
the last moment by the promises and assurances of officers and 
others in Sherman's army, the Mother Superior had clung to her 
house to the last possible moment. It was not merely a home, but 
in some degree a temple, and, to the professors of one church at 
least, a shrine. It had been chosen, as we have seen, as the place of 


refuge for many of other churches. Much treasure had been lodged 
in it for safe keeping, and the Convent had a considerable treasure 
of its own. It was liberally and largely furnished, not only as a 
domain, but as an academy of the highest standard. It was com- 
plete in all the agencies and material for such an academy, and for 
the accommodation of perhaps two hundred pupils. Among these 
agencies for education were no less than seventeen pianos. The 
harp, the guitar, the globe, the maps, desks, benches, bedding and 
clothing, were all supplied on a scale of equal amplitude. The estab- 
lishment also possessed some fine pictures, original and from the first 
masters. The removal of these was impossible, and hence the re- 
luctance of the Mother Superior to leave hef house was sufficiently 
natural. Assured, besides, of safety, she remained imtil further 
delay would have perilled the safety of her innocent and numerous 
flock. This lady marshalled her procession with great good sense, 
coolness and decision. They were instructed to secure the clothes 
most suitable to their protection from the weather, and to take with 
them those valuables which were portable; and, accompanied by 
Rev. Dr. O'Connell and others, the damsels filed on, under the lead 
of their Superior, through long tracts of fire, burning roofs, tum- 
bling walls, wading through billows of flame, and taking, at first, the 
pathway to St. Peter's (Catholic) Church. Blinding fires left them 
almost aimless in their march; but they succeeded in reaching the 
desired point in safety. Here, on strips of bedding, quilts and cover- 
lets, the young girls found repose, protected by the vigilance of a 
few gentlemen, their priest, and, we believe, by two officers of the 
Yankee army, whose names are given as Colonel Corley and Dr. 
Galaghan. To these gentlemen, both Catholic Irish, the Mother 
Superior acknowledges her great indebtedness. They had need of 
all the watch and vigilance of these persons. It was soon found 
that several soldiers followed them in their flight, and were making 
attempts to fire the edifice on several sides. These attempts, repeat- 
edly baffled and as often renewed, showed at length so tenacious a 
purpose for its destruction, that it was thought best to leave the 
building and seek refuge in the church-yard, and there, in the cold 
and chill, and among the grave-stones with the dead, these terrified 
living ones remained, trembling watchers through the rest of this 
dreary night. The Presbyterian grave-yard had a number of fami- 
lies quartered in it for several days after the destruction of the city. 
Aged ladies and young children were also exposed in open lots until 
after the Federals left the city. 

The destruction of private libraries and valuable collections of 


objects of art and virtu^ was very large in Columbia. It was by the 
urgent entreaties of the Rev. Mr. Porter, the professors and others, 
that the safety of the South Carolina College library was assured. 
The buildings were occupied by Confederate hospitals, where some 
three hundred invalids and convalescents found harborage. In a 
conversation with the Rev. Mr. Porter, regarding the safety of the 
College Library, General Sherman indulged in a sneer. "I would 
rather," said he, "give you books than destroy them. I am sure your 
people need them very much." To this Mr. Porter made no reply, 
suffering the General to rave for awhile upon a favorable text with 
him, the glories of his flag and the perpetuation of the Union, which 
he solemnly pledged himself to maintain against all the fates. That 
his own people did not value books, in any proper degree, may be 
shown by their invariable treatment of libraries. These were almost 
universally destroyed, tumbled into the weather, the streets, gutters, 
hacked and hewn and trampled, even when the collections were of 
the rarest value and immense numbers. Libraries of ten thousand 
volumes — ^books such as cannot again be procured — were sacrificed. 
It was one almost invariable feature of the numerous melancholy 
processions of fugitive women and children and old men escaping 
from their burning houses, to be escorted by Federal officers or sol- 
diers—as frequently by the one as by the other — ^who sometimes 
pretended civility, and mixed it up with jeering or offensive remarks 
upon their situation. These civilities had an ulterior object. To 
accept them, under the notion that they were tendered in good faith, 
was to be robbed or insulted. The young girl carrying work-box or 
bundle, who could be persuaded to trust it to the charge of one of 
the men, very often lost possession of it wholly. "That trunk is 
small, but it seems heavy," quoth one to a young lady, who, in the 
procession of the nuns, was carrying off her mother's silver. 
"What's in it, I wonder? Let me carry it." "No, thank you. My 
object is to save it, if I can." "Well, Til save it for you; let me 
help you." "No ; I need no help of yours, and wish you to under- 
stand that I mean to save it, if I can." "You are too proud, miss ! 
but we'll humble you yet. You have been living in clover all your 
life — we'll bring you down to the wash-tub. Those white hands 
shall be done brown in the sun before we're done with you." Officers, 
even ranking as high as colonels, were found as active in the work of 
insults and plunder as any of their common men. One of these 
colonels came into the presence of a young girl, a pupil at the Con- 
vent, and the daughter of a distinguished public man. He wore in 
his hat her riding plume, attached by a small golden ornament, and 


in his hands he carried her riding whip. She calmly addressed him 
thus : "I have been robbed, sir, of every article of clothing and orna- 
ments ; even the dress I wear is borrowed. I am resigned to their 
loss. But there are some things that I would not willingly lose. 
You have in your cap the plume from my riding hat — ^you carry in 
your hand my riding whip. They were gifts to me from a precious 
friend. I demand them from you." "Oh ! these cannot be yours — I 
have had them a long time." "You never had them before last 
night. It was then I lost them. They are mine, and the gold orna- 
ment of the feather engraved with the initials of the giver. Once 
more I demand them of you." "Well, Fm willing to give them to 
you, if you'll accept them as a keep-sake." "No, sir ; I wish no keep- 
sake of your's ; I shall have sufficiently painful memories to remind 
me of those whom I could never willingly see again — ^whom I have 
never wished to see." "Oh ! I rather guess you're right there," with 
a grin. "Will you restore me my whip and feather?" "As a keep- 
sake! Yes." "No, sir; as my property — which you can only wear 
as stolen property." "I tell you, if you'll take them as a keep-sake 
from me, you shall have them." "You must then keep them, sir — 
happy, perhaps, that you cannot blush whenever you sport the plume 
or flourish the whip." And he bore off the treasures of the damsel. 
In these connections, oaths of the most blasphemous kind were rarely 
forebome, even when their talk was had with females. The troops 
had a large faith in Sherman's generalship. One of their lieuten- 
ants is reported to have said : "He's all hell at flanking. He'd flank 
God Almighty out of Heaven and the devil into hell." 

But this is enough on this topic, and we must plead the exactions 
of truth and the necessities of historical evidence, to justify us in 
repeating and recording such monstrous blasphemies. We shall 
hereafter, from other hands, be able to report some additional dia- 
logues held with the women of Columbia, by some of the Federal 
officers. Of their temper, one or two more brief anecdotes will suf- 
fice. The Convent, among its other possessions, had a very beauti- 
ful model of the Cathedral, of Charleston. This occupied a place in 
the Convent grounds. It was believed to have been destroyed by the 
soldiers. One of the nuns lamented its fate to the Mother Superior, 
in the presence of Colonel Ewell, ( ?) an aide of one of the generals. 
He muttered bitterly, "Yes : it is rightly served ; and I could wish the 
same fate to befall every cathedral in which Te Deum has been per- 
formed at the downfall of our glorious flag." A gentleman was ex- 
pressing to one of the Federal generals the fate of the Convent, and 
speaking of the losses, especially of the Lady Superior, he replied 


dryly: "It is not forgotten that this lady is the sister of Bishop 
Lynch, who had Te Deum performed in his cathedral at the fall of 
Fort Sumter." 

A lady of this city spoke indignantly to General Atkins, of Sher- 
man's army, and said of that general, "He wars upon women!" 
"Yes," said Atkins, "and justly. It is the women of the South who 
keep up this cursed rebellion. It gave us the greatest satisfaction to 
see those proud Georgia women begging crumbs from Yankee leav- 
ings; and this will soon be the fate of all you Carolina women." 
Escorting a sad procession of fugitives from the burning dwellings, 
one of the soldiers said: "What a glorious sight!" "Terribly so," 
said one of the ladies. "Grand !" said he. "Very pitiful," was the 
reply. The lady added : "How, as men, you can behold the horrors 
of this scene, and behold the sufferings of these innocents, without 
terrible pangs of self-condemnation and self-loathing, it is difficult to 
conceive." "We glory in it !" was the answer. "I tell you, madam, 
that when the people of the North hear of the vengeance we have 
meted out to your city, there will be one universal shout of rejoicing 
from man, woman and child, from Maine to Maryland." "You are, 
then, sir, only a fitting representative of your people." Another, 
who had forced himself as an escort upon a party, on the morning of 
Saturday, said, pointing to the thousand stacks of chimneys, "You 
are a curious people here in house-building. You run up your 
chimneys before you build the house." One who had been similarly 
impudent, said to a mother, who was bearing a child in her arms : 
"Let me carry the baby, madam." "Do not touch him for your life," 
was the reply. "I would sooner hurl him into the flames and plunge 
in after him than that he should be polluted by your touch. Nor 
shall a child of mine ever have even the show of obligation to a 

Yankee !" "Well, that's going it strong, by ; but I like your 

pluck. We like it d — e ; and you'll see us coming back after the war 
— every man of us — ^to get a Carolina wife. We hate your men like 
h — ^1, but we love your women !" "We much prefer your hate, even 
though it comes in fire. Will you leave us, sir?" It was not always, 
however, that our women were able to preserve their coolness and 
firmness under the assaults. We have quite an amusing story of a 
luckless wife, who was confronted by a stalwart soldier, with a 
cocked revolver at her head. "Your watch!. your money! you d — d 
rebel b — h !" The oaths, sudden demand, fierce look and rapid action, 
so terrified her that she cried out, "Oh ! my G — d ! I have no watch, 
no money, except what's tied round my waist !" We need not say 
how deftly the Bowie-knife was applied to loose the stays of the 


lady. She was then taught, for the first time in her life, that the 
stays were wrongly placed. They should have been upon her 
tongue. In all their conversation, the officers exhibited a very bom- 
bastic manner, and their exaggerations of their strength and per- 
formances great and frequent. On their first arrival they claimed 
generally to have sixty thousand men ; in a few hours after, the num- 
ber was swollen to seventy-five thousand ; by night, it had reached 
one hundred thousand ; and on Saturday, the day after, they claimed 
to have one hundred and twenty-five thousand. We have already 
estimated the real number at forty thousand — ^total cavalry, infantry 
and artillery. 

We have already passingly adverted to the difficulty of saving the 
South Carolina College library from the flames, and lest we should 
have conveyed a false impression in respect to the degree of effort 
made in saving it, we give some particulars which may be found of 
interest. We need scarcely say that the professors clung to their 
sacred charge with a tenacity which never once abandoned it or fore- 
bore the exertions necessary for its safety ; while the officers of the 
several hospitals, to which the College buildings were generally 
given up, were equally prompt to give their co-operation. Very 
soon after the entrance of the Federals into the city. Dr. Thompson, 
of the hospital, with Professors LaBorde, Reynolds and Rivers, took 
their places at the gate of the College Campus, and awaited their 
approach. Towards noon, a body of soldiers, led by a Captain 
Young, made their appearance at the gate, and the surgeon, with the 
professors, made a special appeal to the captain for the protection 
of the library and the College buildings ; to which he replied with a 
solemn assurance that the place should be spared, and that he would 
station a sufficient guard within and without the walls. He re- 
marked, with some surprise, upon the great size of the enclosure 
and establishment. The guard was placed, and no serious occasion 
for alarm was experienced throughout the day ; but, from an early 
hour of the night, the buildings began to be endangered by showers 
of sparks from contiguous houses, which fell upon their roofs. This 
danger increased hour by hour, as the flames continued to advance, 
and finally, the roofs of the several dwellings of Professors LaBorde 
and Rivers burst out in flames. Their families were forced to fly, 
and it required all the efforts of professors, surgeons, servants, even 
aided by a file of soldiers, to arrest the conflagration. Every build- 
ing within the campus was thus in danger. The destruction of any 
one building would to a certainty have led to the loss of all. The 
most painful apprehensions were quickened into a sense of horror, 


when the feeble inmates of the hospital were remembered. There 
were numbers of noble soldiers, brave Kentuckians and others, des- 
perately wounded, to whom — ^lacking, as the establishment did at 
that moment, the necessary labor — but little assistance could be 
rendered. They were required to shift for themselves, while the few 
able-bodied men within the campus were on the house-tops fighting 
the fire. The poor fellows were to be seen dragging their maimed 
and feeble bodies, as best they could, along the floors, adown the 
stairs, and crawling out, with great pain and labor, and by the tardi- 
est process, into that atmosphere of reeking flame, which now girdled 
the establishment. Others, again, unable to leave their beds, re- 
signed themselves to their fate. We can better conceive than de- 
scribe the terrible agonies, to them, of those hours of dreadful anti- 
cipation in which they lay. Happily, the fires were subdued by 4 
in the morning of Saturday. But the danger, even then, was not 
over. About 8 A. M., the College gate was assaulted by a band of 
drunken cavalry, one hundred and fifty or more, bent upon penetrat- 
ing the campus, and swearing to fire the buildings. The officer in 
command of the guard reported to the professors that his force was 
not adequate to the protection of the establishment, and that he was 
about to be overwhelmed. Professors LaBorde and Rivers, fol- 
lowed by Surgeon Thompson, at once sped, in all haste, to the head- 
quarters of General Howard, appealing to him, in the most passion- 
ate terms, to redeem his pledge for the protection of the College and 
its library. He promptly commanded his Chief of Staff, Colonel 
Stone, to repair to the scene and arrest the danger. This — revolver 
in hand — he promptly did, and succeeded in dispersing the incen- 
diary cavalry. It is with profound regret that we add that the Leg- 
islative library, consisting of twenty-five thousand choice volumes, 
was wholly destroyed in the old Capitol. 

Among the moral and charitable institutions which suffered 
greatly in the fire, were the several Masonic bodies. They lost 
everything, with rare exceptions — houses, lodges, regalias, charts, 
charters, jewels, and every form of implement and paraphernalia. 
Much of this property had been accumulated in Columbia from 
Charleston and other places — had been sent hither for safe keeping. 
Their losses will for a long while be wholly irreparable, and cannot 
be repaired, unless, indeed, through the liberality of remote and 
wealthy fraternities in other sections. The furniture and jewels 
were, in the largest number of cases, of the richest and most valuable 
order, wholly of silver, and in great proportion were gifts and be- 
quests of favorite brothers who had reached the highest ranks in the 


order. The buildings, chambers, and lodges which contained the 
treasures of these bodies, were first plundered and then given to the 
flames. The soldiers were to be seen about the streets, dressed up 
in the aprons, scarfs and regalias. Some of the Federal Masons 
were active in endeavoring to arrest the robbers in their work, bat 
without success. In a conversation with one of the Western M^ 
sons, he responded to the signs and behaved courteously, bat he said : 
''We are told that all fraternization with vour Masonic bodies of the 
South has been cut off, in consequence of your Masons renooncn^ 
all connection or tie between them and the Masons of the Xorth.'* 
We replied to him that the story was absurd, and evidently set afloat 
in order to prevent the Xorthern Masons from affording succor to a 
Southern brother in the hour of his distress — that Masonry overrides 
the boundaries of States, allows of no political or religious differ- 
ences, and that its ver>' nature and constitution are adverse to the 
idea of any such renunciations of the paramount duties of the craft, 
in all countries and under all circumstances. 

The morning of Saturday, the 18th of February, opened still vv4th 
its horrors and terrors, though somewhat diminished in thrir in- 
tensity. A ladv said to an officer at her house, somcwherr aUnit 4 
o'clock that morning: "In the name of God, fir, when is Xhh wurk of 
hell to be ended?" He replied: "You will hear the bu^lei* nt liwiw 
rise, when a guard will enter the to^n and withdraw thri^r tr<M>j>«. 
It will then cease, and not before." Sure enough, with \W bwgl^'* 
sound, and the entrance of fresh bodies of troopi, there ws** uh in- 
stantaneous arrest of incendiarism. You could »re the ritHrr** i^irriv*^ 
off in groups and squads, from the ieveral preciuctii th^y had rav- 
aged, and those which they still meditated to destroy. The tap of 
the dram, the sound of the siiptal cannon, eould not have lu'eu more 
decisive in its effect, more fmmifH and cimiplete. Hut two tires were 
set, among private dwelling:*, after sunrise ; and the flames only went 
up from a fciPk' places, where the tire had been last ai)pUed ; aud these 
were rapidly expiring. 

The best and m^j^t t>eatiiifut j>i>rnon of Columbia lay in ruins. 
Xcrer mas ruin more c^Kiipleic : and the sun rose with a wan coun- 
tenance, peering diiuly chrcmgh the dense vapors which seemed 
wholly to o%'er«pread tlu^ rinudnicnt. \'ery miserable was the spec- 
tacle. On every si^le tiuu>. and ^ml)king niasses of blackened walls, 
and towers of ^r^*n. ^hgisd\ chinmcys, and between, in desolate 
grotrps, reclininji v>«t »hiauu>.<. or bed, or earth, were wretched 
women and chilvi»c^^. ^<i^f^n^ vacantly on the site of a once blessed 
abo<ie of hctne a«Wi «*5»:;vvv«ux\ Roving detachments of the soldiers 


passed around and among them. There were those who looked and 
lingered nigh, with taunt and sarcasm. Others there were, in whom 
humanity did not seem wholly extinguished; and others again, to 
their credit, be it said, who were truly sorrowful and sympathizing, 
who had labored for the safety of family and property, and who 
openly deplored the dreadful crime, which threatened the lives and 
honors of the one, and destroyed so completely the other. 

But we have no time for description. The relentless fate was 
hurrying forward, and the destroyer had still as large a share of his 
assigned labors to execute. This day was devoted to the destruction 
of those buildings of a public character which had escaped the wreck 
of the city proper. 

The Saluda cotton manufactory, the property of Colonel L. D. 
Childs, was burned by the troops prior to their entry of the city and 
on their approach to it, the previous day. The several powder mills 
were destroyed on Saturday. The Arsenal buildings (State and 
Confederate) on Sunday, and it is understood that in the attempt to 
haul away ammunition from the latter place, the Federals lost a 
large number of men, from an unlooked-for explosion. It is re- 
ported in one case that no less than forty men, with their officers — 
one entire company — were blown to pieces in one precinct, and half 
as many in another. But the facts can never be precisely ascer- 
tained. The body of a Federal captain lay on the banks of the river 
for several days. So, the fearful progress of incendiarism continued 
throughout Saturday and Sunday, nor did it wholly cease on Mon- 
day. The gas works — one of the greatest necessities of the people — 
was then deliberately destroyed ; and it was with some difficulty that 
the water works were saved. The cotton card manufactory of the 
State ; the sword factory — a private interest ; the stocking manufac- 
tory — ^private; the buildings at Fair Grounds, adjoining cemetery; 
the several railway depots ; Alexander's foundry ; the South Carolina 
Railroad foundry and work shops; the Government armory, and 
other buildings of greater or less value, partly Government and 
partly private property — all shared a common fate. 

Major Niernsee, the State Architect, was a great loser, in his im- 
plements and valuable scientific and professional library. 

The new Capitol building, being unfinished, and not likely to be 
finished in many years — ^useless, accordingly to us — was spared — 
only suifering from some petty assaults of malice. Here and there, 
a plinth fractured ; here and there a Corinthian capital. The beauti- 
ful pillar of Tennessee marble was thus injured. So, at great pains- 
taking, the soldiers clambered up on ladders to reach and eiface the 


exquisite scroll and ornamental work on the face of the building — 
disfiguring the beautiful chiseling which had wrought out the vine 
and acorn tracery on the several panels ; and the bundles of fasces, 
on the northern part, were fractured or broken away in parts. The 
statue of Washington, in bronze, cast in 1858, for the city of Charles- 
ton, from Houdon's original, in the rotunda at Richmond, received 
several bruises from brickbats, addressed to face and breast. A 
shell scratched his back, and the staff which he bore in his hand was 
broken off in the middle. But the bronze seems to have defied de- 
struction and may be considered still perfect. The bust of Calhoun, 
by Powers, was totally destroyed ; so, also, was the ideal personifica- 
tion, by the sculptor Brown, of the Genius of Liberty. A large col- 
lection of complete capitals, destined for the Capitol, and lying in the 
open square, were destroyed either by the heat of the contiguous 
fire, or by explosions of gun-powder introduced among them. The 
new State Capitol presented a very conspicuous mark to the cannon 
on Lexington' heights, yet fortunately sustained but little injury- — 
none, indeed, which cannot be easily repaired. Five shots struck in 
the west end, yet none of them did any serious damage, except one. 
This shattered the ornamented sill and balusters of one of the corri- 
dors of the principal floor. Another shell injured a fluted column 
on the centre projection. Two shots hit the interior of the brick 
arch over the eastern front centre window, and two other nhotH 
struck and slightly scaled off the granite jamb division of the treble 
center window in the eastern front. When in possession, the soldier* 
tried to deface and defile as much as they could. They wrote their 
names in pencil on the marble, giving their coinpttuies ftnd reuiinent?. 
and sometimes coupling appropriately foul coiniuents with \\\^\x *iig» 
natures, thus addressed to posterity. 

Something should be said in respect to the nmuner iu which the 
n^^oes were treated by the FcderaU while \\\ CoUuuhl^, wutl a^ re- 
gards the influences employed by which tt) beguile or t«*kt» theui frt)n) 
their owners. We have alreacly mlvcfted to the fact th<^t there wwm 
a vast difference between the feelings and performancr^ii i\i the m^n 
from the West, and those coining, or directly emanating, frou) the 
Eastern States. The former were adverse to a connection with 
them ; but few negroes were to be seen among these, and they were 
simply used as drudges, grtH)n)ing horses, hearing burdens, humble 
of demeanor and rewarded with kicks, cuffs and curses, frequently 
without provocation. They despised and disliked the negro ; openly 
professed their scorn or hatred, declared their unwillingness to have 
them as companions in arms or in company at all. Several instances 


have been gpiven us of their modes of repelling the association of the 
negro, usually with blow of the fist, butt of the musket, slash of the 
sword or prick of the bayonet. Sherman himself looked on these 
things indiflferently, if we are to reason from a single fact afforded 
us by Mayor Goodwyn. This gentleman, while walking with the 
General, heard the report of a gun. Both heard it, and immediately 
proceeded to the spot. There they found a group of soldiers, with a 
stalwart young n^ro fellow lying dead before them on the street, 
the body yet warm and bleeding. Pushing it with his feet, Sherman 
said, in his quick, hasty manner: "What does this mean, boys?" 
The reply was sufficiently cool and careless. "The d — d Wack rascal 
gave us his impudence, and we shot him." "Well, bury him at once ! 
Get him out of sight!" As they passed on, one of the party re- 
marked: "Is that the way, General, you treat such a case?" "Oh!" 
said he, "we have no time now for courts martial and things of that 
sort r 

A lady showed us a coverlet, with huge holes burned in it, which 
she said had covered a sleeping negro woman, when the Yankees 
threw their torches into her bed, from which she was narrowly ex- 
tricated with life. Of the recklessness of these soldiers, especially 
when sharpened by cupidity, an instance is given where they thrust 
their bayonets into a bed, where they fancied money to be hidden, 
between two sleepiilg children — ^being, it is admitted, somewhat care- 
ful not to strike through the bodies of the children. The treatment 
of the negroes in their houses was, in the larger proportion of cases, 
quite as harsh as that which was shown to the whites. They were 
robbed in like manner, frequently stripped of every article of cloth- 
ing and provisions, and where the wigwam was not destroyed, it was 
effectually gutted. Few negroes having a good hat, good pair of 
shoes, good overcoat, but were incontinently 'deprived of them, and 
roughly handled when they remonstrated. These acts, we believe, 
were mostly ascribed to Western men. They were repeatedly heard 
to say : "We are Western men, and don't want your d — d black faces 
among us." When addressing the negro, they frequently charged 
him with being the cause of the war. In speaking to the whites on 
this subject, especially to South Carolinians, the cause was ascribed 
to them. In more than one instance, we were told : "We are going 
to burn this d — ^^d town. WeVe begun, and we'll go through. This 
thing began here, and we'll sack the houses and burn the town." A 
different role was assigned to, or self-assumed by, the Eastern men. 
They hob-a-nobbed with the negro, walked with him, and smoked 
and joked with him. Filled his ears with all sorts of blarney; lured 


him, not only with hopes of freedom, but all manner of license. They 
hovered about the premises of the citizens, seeking all occasion to 
converse with the negroes. They would elude the guards, slip into 
the kitchen, if the gates were open, or climb over the rear fence and 
converse with all who would listen. No doubt they succeeded in be- 
guiling many, since nothing is more easy than to seduce, with prom- 
ises of prosperity, ease and influence, the laboring classes of any 
people, white or black. To teach them that they are badly governed 
and suffering wrong, is the favorite method of demagogism in all 
countries, and is that sort of influence which will always prevail with 
a people at once vain, sensual and ignorant. But, as far as we have 
been able to see and learn, a large proportion of the negroes were 
carried away forcibly. When the beguiler failed to seduce, he re- 
sorted to violence. The soldiers, in several cases which have been 
reported to us, pursued the slaves with the tenacity of blood-hounds ; 
were at their elbows when they went forth, and hunted them up, at 
all hours, on the premises of the owner. Very frequent are the 
instances where the negro, thus hotly pursued, besought protection 
of his master or mistress, sometimes voluntarily seeking a hiding 
place along the swamps of the river ; at other times, finding it under 
the bed of the owner ; and not leaving these places of refuge till long 
after the troops had departed. For fully a month after they had 
gone, the negroes, singly or in squads, were daily making their way 
back to Columbia, having escaped from the Federals by dint of great 
perseverance and cunning, generally in wretched plight, half-starved 
and with little clothing. They represented the difficulties in the way 
of their escape to be very great, the officers placing them finally 
under guards at night, and that they could only succeed in flight at 
the peril of life or limb. Many of these were negroes of Columbia, 
but the larger proportion seemed to hail from Barnwell. They all 
sought passports to return to their owners and plantations. 

We should not overlook the ravage and destruction in the immedi- 
ate precincts of the city, though beyond its corporate boundaries. 
Within a few miles of Columbia, from two to five miles, it was gir- 
dled by beautiful country seats, such as those of the Hampton family 
— Millwood — a place famous of yore for its charm and elegance of 
society, its frank hospitality and the lavish bounty of its successive 
hosts. The destruction of this family seat of opulence, and grace, 
and hospitality, will occasion sensation in European countries, no 
less than in our own, among those who have enjoyed its grateful 
privileges, as guests, in better days. The beautiful country seats of 
Mr. Secretary Trenhohn, of Dr. John Wallace, Mrs. Thomas Stark, 


Colonel Thomas Taylor, Captain James U. Adams, Mr. C. P. Pel- 
ham (Mill Creek), as well as homestead — ^and many more — all 
shared the fate of Millwood — ^all were robbed and ruined, then given 
to the flames; and from these places were carried off all horses, 
mules, cattle, hogs and stock of every sort; and the provisions not 
carried off, were destroyed. In many cases, where mules and horses 
were not choice, they were shot down. But this was the common 
history. On all the farms and plantations, and along the road sides 
everywhere, for many a mile, horses, mules and cattle, strew the face 
of the country. Young colts, however fine the stock, hacj their 
throats cut. One informant tells us that in one pile he counted forty 
slain mules on the banks of the Saluda. Every vehicle which could 
not be carried away was destroyed. But there were barbarities re- 
ported in the more isolated farm settlements and country houses. 
Horrid narratives of rape are given which we dare not attempt to 
individualize. Individuals suspected of having concealed large sums 
of money, were hung up repeatedly, until, almost in the agonies of 
death and to escape the torture, they confessed where the deposit had 
been made. A German baker had a rope put round his neck, and 
was hauled up several times; until, through fear of death, he con- 
fessed that he had specie around his person and in a trunk. A 
family of the name of Fox, of Lexington, were treated with especial 
cruelty. The head of the family was hung up thrice by the neck till 
nearly dead, when he yielded nine thousand dollars in specie. Mr. 
Meetze, of the same District, is reported to have been robbed in like 
manner and by the same process ; and one poor idiot — a crazy crea- 
ture, mistaken for another party — was subjected, till nearly dead, to 
the same treatment. This mode of torture, from what we can learn, 
was frequently resorted to. Other parties were whipped; others 
buffeted or knocked down, and, indeed, every form of brutality 
seems to have been put in practice, whenever cupidity was sharpened 
into rage by denial or disappointment. But we sicken at the farther 
recital of these cruelties. 


The reader will have seen that we have brought to a close our 
narrative of the most conspicuous events, in the "capture, sack, and 
burning of the city of Columbia." We have been at great pains to 
make the statements ample, and to justify them by reference to the 
best authorities and witnesses to be found. We believe that the 
facts are substantially complete, and so, true in all respects. The 
incidents given are selected as typical of large groups of facts, rep- 
resentative anecdotes, uniform in their variety, and quite too numer- 


ous for separate consideration. But the very uniformity, amidst 
such a nimierous collection, is in confirmation of the general au- 
thenticity of the whole; and we repeat the conviction that the 
narrative is wholly true withal, and to be relied on as a history. We 
have seen, with surprise, some attempts, in sundry quarters, to ac- 
count for the destruction of Colimibia by ascribing it to accident, to 
the drunkenness of straggling parties, to our negroes, and, indeed, 
to any but the proper cause. It is evidently the design of these 
writers, without inquiring into the motives by which they were gov- 
erned, to relieve General Sherman and his army from the imputa- 
tion. If it could be shown that one-half of the army were not 
actually engaged in firing the houses in twenty places at once, while 
the other half were not quiet spectators, indifferently looking on, 
there might be some shrewdness in this suggestion. If it could be 
shown that the whiskey found its way out of stores and cellars, 
grappled with the soldiers and poured itself down their throats, then 
they are relieved of the responsibility. If it can be proved that the 
negroes were not terrified by the presence of these soldiers, in such 
large numbers, and did not (as they almost invariably did) on the 
night of the fire, skulk away into their cabins, lying low, and keeping 
as dark as possible, we might listen to this suggestion, and perhaps 
admit its plausibility. But why did the soldiers prevent the firemen 
from extinguishing the fire as they strove to do ? Why did they cut 
the hose as soon as it was brought into the streets ? Why did they 
not assist in extinguishing the flames ? Why, with twenty thousand 
men encamped in the streets, did they suffer the stragglers to suc- 
ceed in a work of such extent? Why did they suffer the men to 
break into the stores and drink the liquor wherever it was found? 
And what shall we say to the universal plundering, which was a 
part of the object attained through the means of fire? Why, above 
all, did they, with their guards massed at every comer, suffer the 
negroes to do this work? These questions answered, it will be seen 
that all these suggestions are sheer nonsense. To give them plausi- 
bility, we have been told, among other mis-statements, that General 
Sherman himself was burned out of his own selected quarters, no 
less than four times. This is simply ridiculous. He was burned 
out in no single instance. None of his generals was burned out. 
The houses chosen for their abodes, were carefully selected, and the 
fire was kept from approaching them in any single instance. But 
we have pursued our narrative very imperfectly, if our array of 
facts be not such as conclusively to show that the destruction of the 
city was a deliberately designed thing, inflexibly fixed from the be- 

13— M 


ginning, and its fate sufficiently well known to be conceived and 
comprehended by all the army. 

Long before the army left Savannah, a lady inquired of one of the 
Federal Generals in that city, whither she should retire — ^mentioning 
her preference of Columbia. His reply was significant. "Go any- 
where but to Columbia." We have stated the conference between 
the Lady Superior of the Ursuline Convent and a certain Major of 
the Federals, who originally belonged to the press gang of Detroit. 
He warned her at 11 o'clock of Friday, "that she would need all the 
guard he had brought, as Columbia was a doomed city," A lady in 
one of our upper Districts, expressing surprise at the treatment of 
Columbia in this nineteenth, or boasted century of civilization, was 
answered: "South Carolina has been long since the promised boon 
of Sherman's army." Masonic brethren told others in the city that 
an order had been issued to the troops before they crossed the river, 
giving them license to sack, plunder and destroy for the space of 
thirty-six hours, and that Columbia was destined to destruction. A 
sick Federal soldier, who had been fed, nursed and kindly treated by 
a city lady, told her, on Friday morning, that the place would be 
destroyed that night. The simultaneous breaking out of the fires, 
in the heart of the city, and in the suburbs in twenty places besides, 
should conclude all doubt. 

1. Enough that Sherman's army was under perfect discipline. 
They were, as an army, completely in the hands of the officers. 
Never was discipline more complete — ^never authority more abso- 

2. That the fire was permitted, whether set by drunken stragglers 
or negroes, to go on, and Sherman's soldiers prevented, by their 
active opposition, efforts of the firemen, while thousands looked on 
in perfect serenity, seeming totally indifferent to the event. 

3. That soldiers, quite sober, were seen in hundreds of cases busily 
engaged in setting fire, well provided with all the implements and 

4. That they treated with violence the citizens who strove to arrest 
the flames. 

5. That when entreated and exhorted by citizens to arrest the 
incendiaries and prevent the catastrophe, at the very outset, the offi- 
cers, in many cases, treated the applicants cavalierly, and gave no 
heed to their application. 

6. That, during the raging of the flames, the act was justified by a 
reference to the course of South Carolina in originating the seces- 
sion movement. 


7. That the general officers themselves held aloof until near the 
elose of the scene and of the night. That General Sherman knew 
what was going on, yet kept aloof and made no effort to arrest it, 
until daylight on Saturday, ought, of itself, to be conclusive. 

8. That, with his army under such admirable discipline, he could 
have arrested it at any moment; and that he did arrest it, when it 
pleased him to do so, even at the raising of a finger, at the tap of a 
drum, at the blast of a single trumpet. 

But, what need of these and a thousand other suggestive reasons, 
to establish a charge which might be assumed from a survey of 
Sherman's general progress, from the moment when he entered 
South Carolina? The march of his army was a continued flame — 
the tread of his horse was devastation. On what plea was the pic- 
turesque village of Barnwell destroyed? We had no army there 
for its defence ; no issue of strength in its neighborhood had excited 
the passions of the combatants. Yet it was plundered — every house 
— ^and nearly all burned to the ground; and this, too, where the town 
was occupied by women and children only. So, too, the fate of 
Blackville, Graham, Bamberg, Buford's Bridge, Lexington, &c., all 
hamlets of most modest character, where no resistance was offered — 
where no fighting took place — where there was no provocation of 
liquor even, and where the only exercise of heroism was at the ex- 
pense of women, infancy and feebleness. Such, too, was the fate 
of every farm-house-^of six in seven, at least Surely, when such 
was the fate and treatment in all cases, there need be no effort now 
to show that an exception was to be made in favor of the State 
capital, where the offences charged upon South Carolina had been 
necessarily of the rankest character; and, when they had passed 
Columbia — greatly bemoaning the cruel fate which, under stragglers 
and whiskey-drinkers and negroes, had brought her to ruin — what 
were the offences of the villages of AUston, Pomaria, Winnsboro, 
Blackstock, Society Hill, and the towns of Camden and Cheraw? 
Thus weeping over the cruelty which so unhappily destroyed Colum- 
bia, was it that she should enjoy fellowship in woe and ashes, that 
they gave all these towns and villages to the flames, and laid waste 
all the plantations and farms between? But enough. If the con- 
science of any man be sufficiently flexible on this subject to coerce 
his understanding even into a momentary doubt, all argument will 
be wasted on him. 

Our task has ended. Our narrative is drawn by an eye-witness 
of much of this terrible drama, and of many of the scenes which it 


includes, but the chief part has been drawn from the living mouths 
of a clou4 of witnesses, male and female, the best people in Columbia. 
The burnt district extended from Cotton Town to Pendleton street, 
north and south, and from Main to Bull, three streets, east and west. 
With the exception of three small dwellings, Main street was wiped 
out for twelve blocks. 

Names of Owners of Buildings Destroyed. 

Afc^in Street — Wm. Price, W. McAlister, R. Keenan, Jr., James 
Cathcart, R. O'Neale, P. P. Chambers, Mrs. J. J. Kinsler, Mrs. Law, 
James Crawford, James R. Kennedy, Lysander D. Childs, Mrs. 
Kirk, Estate James Kennedy, P. H. Flanigan, G. B. Nunamaker, A. 
Crawford, Kraft, Goldsmith & Kraft, Henry Hunt, Mrs. P. Patter- 
son, St. Mary's College, R. Lewis, Wm. Lyles, Wm. Hennies, H. 
Hess, Grieshaber & Wolfe, Dr. T. J. Roach, M. McElrone, John 
Judge & Co., A. Riley, W. McGuinnis, Estate John Beard, Mrs. J. 
Blankenstein, M. O'Connell, A. J. Barnes, W. W. Purse, R. Lewis, 
Bishop Lynch, John McCuUy, H. C. Franck, Keatinge & Ball, Estate 
C. Beck, Dr. F. Marks, Estate John J. Kinsler, D. Jacobs, M. Comer- 
ford, Boyne & Sprowl, James Brown, Thos. Boyne, C. Norman, E. 
Stenhouse, E. Hope, E. & G. D. Hope, R. Bryce, M. Ehrlich, John 
C. Seegers, Bruns & Eilhardt, John Rawls, W. T. Walter, Bishop 
Lynch, S. Pearse, H. N. McGowan, Fisher & Heinitsh, S. Gardner, 
Commercial Bank, Thomas Davis, Henry Davis, R. C. Anderson, 
Southern Express Co., Isaac Cohen, G. V. Antwerp, Charles Beck, 
Dr. M. M. Sams, Dr. C. Wells, C. A. Bedell, J. C. Walker, W. B. 
Stanley, Bank of the State, Independent Fire Co., City of Columbia, 
Dr. R. W. Gibbes and J. S. Guignard, Com. Public Buildings, R. 
Mayrant, J. Stork, O. Z. Bates, C. Volger, J. C. Janney, Janney & 
Leaphart, Estate J. S. Boatwright, L. Carr, Dr. M. LaBorde, G. S. 
Bower, W. &. J. Shiell, Mrs. E. Bailey, James Hayes, James Mc- 
Kenna, Jacob Lyons, T. S. Nickerson, H. C. Franck, Estate of R. 
Russell, Estate B. Reilly, Old Capitol and buildings, Mrs. E. J. 
Huntt, A. Palmer, Joseph Green (colored), Mrs. B. Roberts. 

Sumter — ^W. McAlister, Mrs. Beebe, R. Wearn, M. A. Shelton, 
P. M. Johnson, J. Oliver, Mrs. E. Law, P. G. McGregor, P. L. 
Valory, J. F. Eisenman, Estate C. Beck, B. Bailey, C. A. Barnes, 
Presbyterian Lecture Room, A. J. Green, Mrs. J. Bryce, Mrs. S. 
Murphy, Dr. R. W. Gibbes, Jr., Old Baptist Church, Mrs. J. Friede- 
burg, S. Waddell, G. S. Bower, W. F. DeSaussure, A. C. Squier, 
Estate J. S. Boatwright, J. H. Stelling, Mrs. C. Neuffer, F. W. 
Green, W. B. Broom. 


Gervais — C. C. McPhail, Evans & Cogswell, Greenville Railroad, 
South Carolina Railroad, Blakely, Williams & Co., Estate Thos. 
Frean, James Claifey, Estate B. Reilly, R. O'Neale, Mrs. A. Haight, 
Sarah Calhoun, J. Taylor, Mrs. E. Glaze, D. Hane, T. S. Nickerson, 
T. J. Goodwyn, F. W. Green, J. S. Guignard, Trinity Church Lec- 
ture Room, Mrs. B. E. Levy, Mrs. Bailey. 

Other Streets — ^Wm. Elkins, H. Hess, Jas. Kenneth, Mrs. S. C. 
Rhett, J. C. Walker, Estate J. D. Kinman, Synagogue, J. T. Zealy, 
John Stork, J. P. Southern, J. C. Janney, J. H. Baldwin, H. E. & H. 
C. Nichols, Estate C. Beck, Dr. R. H. Edmonds, S. S. McCuUy, Es- 
tate E. B. Hort, Mrs. Holmes, Mrs. Quigley, Thos. Davis, Benj. 
Evans, Jacob Bell, Estate C. Beck, N, Ramsay, G. W. Wright, R. 
Lewis, Keatinge & Ball, Glaze & Shields, R. Bryce, M. Comerford, 
Pahnetto Engine Co., Mrs. Ann Marshall, B. Mordecai, Dr. A. J. 
Green, Mrs. Z. P. Herndon, Mrs. John Bryce, C. A. Bedell, E. H. 
Heinitsh, Jas. L. Clark, T. B. Clarkson, Christ Church, Mrs. K. 
Brevard, C. R. Bryce, Estate C. Beck, Mrs. H. English, Charlotte 
Railroad, E. J. Arthur, W. Van Wart, J. L. Beard, Estate C. Beck, 
B. J. Knight, Miss C. Daniels, Estate Mrs. Logan, Mrs. Fowle, 
Samuel Waddell, Mrs. O. M. Roberts, Estate B. Reilly, Mrs. J. 
Rawls, M. Lilienthal, S. Beard, Benj. Rawls, Mrs. P. B. Smith, Wm. 
Walter, J. H. Carlisle, W. W. Walker, A. G. Goodwin, John Rawls, 
Wm. H. Dial, John Veal, W. B. Stanley, S. Gardner, H. Henrichson, 
A. R. Phillips, Commercial Bank, John H. Heise, Jas. K. Friday, Dr. 
J. McF. Gaston L. W. Jennings, Rev. T. E. Wannamaker, Wm. 
Hitchcock, Dr. D. H. Trezevant, Dr. R. W. Gibbes, Sr., Jas. G. 
Gibbes, H. Muller, Dr. J. W. Powell, Gibbes & Guignard, Dr. S. 
Fair, C. H. Wells, R. C. Anderson, J. B. Glass, C. A. Bedell, State 
Ag^cultural Society, John McKay, W. Riley, W. Thackam, R. 
Weam, J. C. Seegers, Estate Miss Ward, Arsenal Academy, Mrs. 
H. Gill, Wm. Fetner, John Judge, Lutheran Church, James Beard, 
Thos. H. Wade, Government Powder Works, W. R. Huntt, Mrs. E. 
J. Huntt, Trinity Parsonage, M. L. Brown, J. S. Guignard, Estate 
I. D. Mordecai, Mrs. J. S. Boatwright, J. H. Stelling, John Shiell, 
J. C. Janney, J. H. Baldwin, E. R. Stokes. Wm. H. Toy, M. Brennan, 
Clarissa May (colored), C. H. Pritchard, Lecture Room Washington 
Street Church, Andrew Crawford, J. C. Lyons, George Huggins, S. 
Muldrow, C. P. Pelham, D. P. Kelly, Methodist Parsonage, Church, 
Mrs. G. M. Thompson, M. A. Shelton, Dr. A. N. Talley, R. L. 
Bryan, Dr. J. H. Boatwright, Mrs. Kennerly, John Bauskett, Law 
Range, Brennan & Carroll, J. G. Gibbes, J. D. Bateman, F. G. De 
Fontaine & Co., Jail, P. F. Frazee, R. Mayrant, G. G. Newton. 



Shakespeare's ''Seven 4^ges" from My Stand-point. 

There is no doubt but that the inimitable William had studied 
human nature thoroughly when he penned his immortal "Seven 
Ages of Man." As for the infant, "mewling," etc., that's all right. 
The "whining schoolboy" won't apply to me, because we had a 
number of girls at our school, and they were an attraction. The 
"lover" and his mistress' eyebrows, will pass lightly over, as I had 
too many to attempt to write about them. The "soldier" won't fit, 
but know how hot lead feels. The "judge" — ^well, I acted as judge 
for a mule race once. But "The last scene of all, which ends this 
strange eventful history" — sans eyes (have only one) ; sans teeth 
(bought them from Dr. T. T. Moore) ; sans taste (don't fancy many 
old favorite feeds and very little new suffices) ; sans ever3rthing — 
really unnecessary to specify anything further. William surely was 
a prophet and a seer. Directed that his body should be buried 
thirty-five feet deep, so that grave-thieves could not get at it. And, 
just to think, at this late date, scientists are anxious to disinter the 
remains, so as to see the shape of the skull. 

Last month was the sixty-first anniversary of my advent into a 
printing office — August, 1844 — ^with Col. A. H. Pemberton, of the 
South Carolinian, southwest comer Main and Taylor streets. 

And now, kind reader, I've written out 

The numerous affairs I know about — 

Have even gone beyond my birth date, 

Interesting matters to ventilate; 

May be charged with exaggeration — 

I vouch for my authors' reputation; 

Could speak of Taylors, Mannings, nthers, 

Trezcvants, Singletons and Preston brothers, 

Belonging to ^rsX, families old, 

Who inherited ''nigs," and they brought gold; 

This is no genealogic tree. 

With attempts to trace back to Mother E. 

Our city is growing, we well know. 

But parties who helped to make it so, 

Have been cut off by means unlawful 

(Killer's conscience qualms known to be awful). 

Houses ^ up in every direction — 

Owners have the best of fire protection; 

Sewerage and water A No. 1 — 

Work partly finished, the rest begun; 

Two parks for pleasant recreation — 

Prettiest women in Unc. Sam's nation; 

\Vith street car service unsurpassed — 

Whoever wants more must be biased. 

And this epilogue closes my say — 

Wish you health and wealth many a long day. 





How the Idea of Pahllcstlon Originated 1 


Hftupy jftck BDdEUxtbetli B 

suae Upeet— His StullarinK Saved Him 7 

To ChBrleBton b; SUKe and RsUlosd... B 


A Valuable Slumber Kobe IT 

ADtor at tbp Aae ol Nlnen-Bli 10 

An Old Land-mark Removed a 

Ad Unfortunate UanaKer li 

BrlnR Oul your Daruea Old Lion IB 

Christ Between the Two Thieves IT 

Didn't Approve al Saeh Traitedv IS 

Xxcellent Driver, Policeman, Captain. . U 

Joe JelTerBon'8 First AppesraDue H«re. . 11 

Murder will Out w 

No One Night Bualneea In Old Times... 1I> 

P.T.Ban)um'B''ShowLlfe"Beganeere U> 

Three-vear-old Aclor 11 

The lirand Finale— Burial or Calhouo.. IS 

Tragedy, euDK< Dance and Farce S 

Anichotes Abodt Good 1>eople U 

A6uaceS8[ul andSltillfu] Phyelclan,. . W 

Anatere Man— Didn't Seed the PlatBB... » 

Caught Up with a Flighty Husband... 31 

Dog Latin— The Resurrection. Ac 18 

Downed the POBt Commandant M 

Got Even with Judwe Mellon iS 

Bad a "Scrap" wllb a Countryman 84 

HadaSJspdamleus fur mm Sli 

He Obeyei Uia Fatlier 84 

Hyatl'a Parli- A Retroflpect at 

It Might Make a Difference SO 

John ^- Dictionary" Brown 2S 

KnewHow to UilllzeHI«3lep9 83 

Ulaa Jane and Her Nnvel i'araeo] .... 38 

Nat. Joined the Temperance Society. ... M 

Never Saw my Brother Jack. sa 

OldRahb-Afraldof Snakea.Ao 88 

Only One Speakei^-MaKcy Uregg, Kbq. . 88 

Preiident Polk and the Boots 28 

BhB Could Oarrja Fan 80 

She was Sallafled with the Explanation 80 

The Alligator Spoke, so Dan. Declared. . DT 

TiiB Caldwell Brothers— Hungry 81 

The RBSorreotlon, etc S8 

"Dncle Billy" Maybln and the Carrots.. 36 

WbyNot SayCbHetianlEer SS 

Wouldn't Diiturb the Cow 34 

VouMean my Halr.fllrT SB 

8ottTB Carolina Coi.i,BaE AFrataa 87 

Claaa waa Democratic ST 

Jouior Class Tricks 8T 

Headed Off the PrurcBBoroi Creek SO 

Long Enough Before 1 Uet Another W 

Not Satisfied with bla Resting Place.,.. 40 

■■Old Prei" Wasn't Left, 87 

Reasonable Objecllon W 

The Famous Students' Row 88 

Took Salt In Hia Tea 40 


A Slick Duck- W. W. Walker, Jr 48 

Cases Bomewbat Like Baby Farming. . . 40 

Chapter of AceldentB... 48 

Hifltory of a Household. Neuffer Family M 

Life is Truly Uncertain 47 

Light Went Out. BO Did a Life 47 

Lived IVo HourB with Wound In Heart 46 

I.fl9t Fsmily live Children in flveweekt, 4S 

Peculiar Occurrences in this Vicinity.. . 41 

SilentClockStmckl.SlckManDled... 4 

strang^Fatfl™""'"'"*':::::::::;;;:;;:: J 

Teaehera in the Old Homestead 4 

TerribleNlgbi— Stopped the Clock! :'',!. C 

The Same ."Jame— Both Partiea Living - 4 

Two Similar Sums Beoelved Same Day. 4 


A stiff "Dummy" t 

Drew the Lineal Unnecessary Artielei. C 

Doctors No Good, Mr. Llndfors Thought I 

EdicortalB— Lengthy vs. Short t 

Fell from Orace—Kavis Gladden e 

Fishing First, Work Afterwards e 

Knew the Lord's Prayer . . ( 

Landlord and Yellow Fever Guest .... C 

Not Such Seats as These 1 

Recognising a Peculiar Habit E 

ahlverDeil.JohnBton.McWhirter, 4o... E 

UpinaBalloon-CanieDown SoW.... ( 

Wore One Pair Wedding Ulovea Thrice. I 

Wonderful Pumpkins in Virginia I 

Wouldn't Stand Him Off... { 

Ubiioah Von'NTBKaa ( 

Consuniptlon Cured- Dr. Barkuloo.. . . ( 

Gen. Shields' Sword wlcb gold scabbard ( 

Neceasary lo Hold Up HlsTrouaere. . . ( 

O ifi cere' SwordB Not Reoelved ( 

Meiican VelB.-Who will Get the Vaaef ( 

From Columbia, S.G., to Savannah, Ga. ( 

AH Joined to Do Honor 5 

Col.Caah.Ihe irrcpresBihle ( 

Foiled the Grave Robbers, 5 

Forwd Intoa Duel ( 

Fraudulent and Fatal Building ( 

GovernorOutof Reach < 

Knife and Cage Rake. ( 

Murder. Not Suicide ( 

SanderBDIed"Game" ( 

'■The Elephant's Loose". ( 

"The Home" and "The Pulaaki" ( 

The Four MoKensie Boys 7 

Three Murderers Hanged at Once ( 

TwoSonaCome toUntlniPly Ends ] 

Unavailing Searcli for Bodies '• 

Was it Providential PunlBhmentf ( 

White Men Hanged for Killing » Negro. 1 

Wholesale Robbery Attempted ( 


ABlgDrunk ( 

All itlce— Impertinence Promptly Met, . ( 

ANeeessary Evil ,. 6 

BulltBefore tbe Revolution— War Mark t 

Bull Penning. Tiamie Ballots, Ao 7 

Caricatured Once Too Often 7 

Camp SorKhum, Lexlugton Side River. . t 

Couldn't Stand the Cofflna ( 

Didn't Approve of Clrcusin the Street. . I 

Don't interfere with Husband and Wife t 

Don't Darn on the Darn t 

Following Bad Example. E 

History o! a Gold Snuff-box 5 

He Carried it Too Far 5 

Horn of Plenty- Cornucopia e 

JiwobRI^'s Rhyming Oatdoiie'.V. '.'.'.". ( 

Let the Lord Have Good MuBlo I 

NalPope'aPig 5 

Objected to Being Uade a Nun ( 

Only Pleasant Talk-Wtdely Separated, t 

Quickest Trial on Record 5 

Sam Wouldn't Stay Dead.,.. ( 



Scriptural Locusts 80 

The Greek Slave and Kve 80 

The Quitman Ball— Grand Affair 81 

Three Treasured Memorials 87 

"Tree of Life"— A Reminiscence 82 

Shrewd Speaker— Changed Front 82 

So-called Historic Picture— John Brown 76 

Wouldn't Make a Hog of Himself £4 

X10U8 90 

Grave Mattbbs 02 

Buried Alive 08 

Darkeys and Sunday Funerals 07 

Don't Bet with an Undertaker 06 

Effects of Prayer on a Hard Case 08 

Fearful Loss of Life— The Gen. Lyon 06 

Hangman's Rope Good for Fits 07 

Husband and wife Died Same Day 08 

Malaria and Riley's Whiskey 08 

Mistakes on TornVstones 06 

Myers vs. Tradewell, the Unf ought Duel 04 

Not Afraid of the Dead— Nervy Woman . 08 

Old Potter's Field Despoiled 06 

Potter's Field Formerly Used by All. . . 08 

The Lone Grave in the Capitol Grounds 02 

Undertaker Squier Measuring the Dead 05 

Why Major O'Hanlon was Buried Here. 04 

Uncertain 07 

Old Timb Danoino 00 

Dancing in these Later Times 100 

Sashay All ! Sashay More ! 00 

In the Arms of Morpheus 00 

Undertaker Danced, or Tried to 100 


Starting a Paper Under Difficulties 101 

Swearers vs. Prayers— The Difference. . . 101 

Tedious and Lbnghthy Joubnby 105 

Carried Nearly Three Hundred Letters. 106 
Bight Days Columbia to Philadelphia.. 106 
Wouldn't Bzchange Old Shoes for New. 108 

The Eabthquakb in Chablbston UO 

First Positive Information in Columbia 112 

Miraculous Preservation of a Train 112 

Said It Felt Like an Earthquake HI 

Scenes and Incidents 110 

Steamers Kept Fires "Banked" 118 

Sudden Death of a Charitable Man 118 

Thought It was the Last Great Day Ill 

Too Busy to Attend to his Injuries 118 

Tide Stationary for Four Days 110 

Wind Taken Out of Smartey^s Sails 114 

How THE Radicals webb Dbivbn Out.. 115 

Commanders Somewhat Alike 115 

Didn't Want to Help the Undertakers.. 116 

"Hold the Fort"— Ticklish Times 115 

Would Eat Crackers and Cheese First. . 116 
Wouldn't Pay Taxes to support Radicals 116 

The Latb Unpleasantness 117 

"All's Well"— Happy Omen 117 

Asa Hartz— Something of a Rhymster. . 110 

Generals Hampton and Howard 122 

Knew What Baby Food Was 117 

Laboring Under Disadvantages 120 

Licked, but Didn't Know It 117 

Negro Jails Not Interfered With 120 

No Meat in the House 122 

Reasons for Not Paying Debts 120 

Recognizing a Good Samaritan Enemy. 118 

Very Undignified, Capt. Kemi>er 121 

"What's in a Name?" 121 

Vbnebable Subjects 128 

A Long Imprisonment 188 

Another Little Face in the Picture 127 

Columbia's First Important Fire 126 

Dr. Elias Marks, of Barhamville 126 

Log Cabins, Coon Skins and Hard Cider 127 

"Not till I've Laced my Corsets" 126 

Old Hotels or Taverns— Rivers' First.. . . 126 

Obeyed the Bench Warrant 128 

Oldest Church in Columbia 128 

Old-time Toddy-stick 182 

Patrol and Street Duty— Run, Nig^ run. 128 
Racing in Old Times— Four-mile Heats. 1S2 

Running Ten Miles in an Hour 188 

South Carolina First Steam Railroad. . . 180 

Tar and Feathers 131 

The Military and the Fourth of July. ... 120 

The Whipping- i>ost I8I 

Veteran of '08 and his Weapon 181 

Visit of LaFayette, '24— Varied Portraits 124 
Wanted Little Gtold Crucifixes 182 

Columbia— Old AND New 184 

Changing Names of Streets 140 

Columbia— The Capital City 184 

Columbia Not on "the Square" 187 

Congaree and Saluda River Bridges 140 

First Book Store in Columbia 141 

First Clock— Mr. B. Rawls Supplied It. . 186 

First Newspaper in Columbia 186 

Graded School Buildings 188 

Intendants and Mayors of Columbia. ... 187 

Mr. Boatwright and Cotton Gins 180 

Oldest Houses in Columbia ; . . . 185 

Old Mills Gone Out of Business 180 

Our City and What It Claims 184 

Our First Emigrants 186 

Our Oldest Citizens 188 

Served Triple Purposes 180 

Ten Thousand Trees Destroyed 141 

The Oldest Walls 187 

To be Regretted 184 

Tudor Hall— "Door of Hope" 141 

Paper Mill 188 

Peculiab Happenings 142 

A Fortune in Hand— Let it Slip 146 

Cast Thy Bread, &c 148 

Crazy Darkeys Unknown 146 

Delays are Dangerous— My Experience.. 146 

Meeting a Fellow-Country man 142 

Robbery of Scott, Williams & Co.'s Bank 146 

Odds and Ends 147 

Accidental Destruction of Historic Tree 140 

Ada, sole daughter, etc 147 

A. Play upon Names— Taylor, Physioc. . . 147 
Arsenal Academy— Powder-monkeys ... 150 

"And the Beggar Died" 140 

Didn't Want Watered Liquor 168 

Disappearance of Spanish Coins 140 

Dislocated— Brodie and Longinotti 147 

Eating Steaks from a Living Turtle 160 

Education vs. Card Tricks 147 

Give them a Homestead 152 

Great Many Ways to Earn Money 148 

Haunted Ground — Elm wood Cemetery . 152 
How Betty Boyer Would Get a Drink. . . 140 

How to Get Around Borrowers 148 

"I'll Have to Take It, Sam." 161 

Lost the Spoons 161 

"Lover's Lane," or Twelve-mile Drive.. 148 

Pastor Fifty-two Years 168 

Saved his Horse 181 

She Knew it was There 151 

Singular Coincidence 168 

Russell's Botanical Garden 162 

The Irishman and the German 152 

"Why Didn't I Say Two Hundred?" 160 

Addenda— Mb. Simms' Tbuthful Stoby 164 

Sack and Destruction of Columbia 154 

Names Owners of Buildings Destroyed.. 107 

Epilogue— Wind-up 108 

Shakespeare's "Seven Ages"- My View. 108 

Index lOO 



3 2044 019 666 40i